Evolution
by sait4soreyes
Summary: Raphael is a not-so-ordinary pet turtle trapped in an aquarium in a Brooklyn apartment. With no recollection of any other life, a sudden chain of events causes him to question everything he knows, and to find value within himself for the very first time.
1. Behind the Glass

_Hello all! I have enjoyed reading your stories so much, that I thought maybe I'd try my hand at writing one. Comments and reviews are welcome, and thanks for taking the time to read! I love Raphael and wanted to write a story about him that I hope is sort of unique. If anyone has seen the movie "Sliding Doors," I guess you could say it inspired me, as I liked the way it explored the "What Ifs" in life._

_Oh, and I hate to do this but I have to warn you now - I will do the best I can but I cannot promise really rapid updates, due to having a very busy lifestyle right now. I apologize in advance._

_Disclaimer: I never have, do not now, and never will own the TMNT. _

There it was again, that same dream. He had no idea of its significance, or why it plagued his subconscious mind every few nights. It seemed to be composed of unrelated thoughts, the way dreams sometimes are. Here a flash of gleaming metal, there a red flag flapping in a breeze. Sometimes snatches of conversation among voices he failed to recognize. Occasionally as he watched, the color would drain from the flag, turning it to a white so brilliant that he would have to look away.

The dream always followed a basic pattern, and he always chose to forget it the moment he woke up. However, today after waking, something… something nagged at his brain. He mentally scanned through the series of thoughts again. Then he realized what was new. Although it had never occurred to him before, on this particular morning something was stirring within the deep recesses of his mind. He felt that he had possibly – yes, definitely – recognized someone, a face in his dream. However the more he tried to recall it, the further it receded into ambiguity.

For the first time, he found himself wondering whether these dreams were not composed merely of thoughts, but of memories…

His reverie was interrupted by a familiar shuffling noise, like the sound of a rake scraping leaves off the pavement, only quieter and more deliberate. _Great, _he thought sourly, _here comes Miss Conversation herself. Probably tossing and turning all night in anticipation of the morning meal, the highlight of her day._ He sighed… too bad his one companion in the cramped glass enclosure had about the mental capacity of a turnip.

_So, what'll it be today? Lemme guess – lettuce and tomato? Maybe they'll get real crazy and throw in a few peas. _She wouldn't care – variety was beyond her comprehension.

Why were they so different? He had given a lot of thought to this because there didn't seem to be a reasonable explanation for it, and it bothered him. He and the female turtle looked almost identical, though he was at least a third again her size. They had to be from the same species, had the same dietary and environmental needs, yet as far as he could tell, his mental capacity was advanced far beyond hers.

Not that he was able to attempt conversation with her, of course – it was not anatomically possible for him to speak. Still, it was obvious in other ways. She spent her day wandering back and forth between the salad bar, as he called it, and the spot where she spent the vast majority of her time warming under the heat lamp. He could just tell that, as far as she was concerned, that was all there was to life. Sure, if the Human reached his hand in towards them, she'd suck her head inside her shell for a moment, and occasionally she'd shift positions under the comforting heat of the lamp, but it really didn't vary beyond that.

He, however, was different, he knew that much even though he had no idea _how_, or _why._ When the television was on across from the aquarium, he _saw_ the figures on the screen and understood what they were. He knew that the Human was from Brooklyn, even though he had never seen that part of New York City or even anything outside of the Room, as far as he was aware. He dreamed and remembered his dreams; he had preferences about tomato color and water temperature.

But perhaps most alarming of all was the fact that he could _feel_, and with intense emotion at times. Frustration was his constant companion, frustration over the fact that he _knew_, he knew very well that there was a whole world out there full of color and space and companionship and _life_, yet he would never experience any of it.

His world was simply the cool glass walls in a neat and sparsely furnished room, with a companion who just simply wasn't _there_. The knowledge that this would be his life, for days and weeks and months and years to come, threatened to suffocate him until, sometimes in the middle of the night, he woke up in despair.

*******************

_He was in a room, free from the glass cage! His heart beat loudly in his ears with the recognition -- he'd seen this room before. Just as he began to register the tapestries on the wall, the warm glow of flickering candlelight and the scratchy feel of carpet beneath him, he realized he was not alone. The other presence was mysterious, he could not tell who it was at all. However it felt comforting, and strangely… familiar. Suddenly, it spoke._

"_Why are you so angry? Always such a fire burns within you, my son. Come, sit, calm yourself and simply tell me the source of your frustration."_

"_I dunno, Father, it's just that… well, I feel like I don't contribute nothin' to this team. Nothin' positive, 'least. Everybody's got their special talent… somethin' to really help us in battle, and all I got are these weapons and a lousy sense of timing… it don't seem fair."_

"_My son, do you forget so easily, over and over? Do you forget your strength, your loyalty, your unshakeable resolve? There's more steel to you than what you hold in your hand, my son."_

_He looked down and saw… some type of metal gleaming in the candlelight. It was partially bound with a red cloth. As he watched it, the red shimmered and began to glow, a bright white that burned his eyes…_

Abruptly, the world shifted impossibly. His eyes snapped open. Disoriented, he waited for his night vision to kick in. The room, the room! He looked around wildly, and his heart sank. He could barely make out his reflection in the glass walls, but it was enough. His prison. He strained to remember, to snatch back pieces of the dream before it disappeared into oblivion as they all had in the past. Father? Team? Weapons? He had longed to see the face of the one who spoke to him so tenderly. _My son._

He had seen weapons, sharp ones, in his dreams. He was holding them, it had felt natural. Did he know how to use them? He remembered that they had colored wrapping around the handles . These handles, they had started out red, but turned to white, before his eyes. He found the change unpleasant, almost frightening, and wondered why.

_Red_. Such a suitable color for him, he had always felt it suggested power, strength. Yet it reminded him also of anger, an anger born of the frustration that was welling up inside him. If these dreams were not memories then why, _why, _did everything they contained seem more real to him than his own life, than reality? Why did he long to return to the candlelit room, to the indefinable figure who spoke to him with authority, yet so gently_?_ The more he pondered this, the more the aquarium walls closed in on him, until he wanted desperately to release all his pent-up emotion in a scream. As if that were even possible.

He looked around the silent room as dawn began to peek in through the curtains. The sofa facing a blank TV screen, clock ticking on the mantle, shelves stacked with books bearing a light layer of dust. In the midst of the peace of the early morning, he was plagued by an inner turmoil. Here in the sand where he awoke every morning, staring around him at sights that greeted him every day, he became utterly convinced that something was terribly wrong.

Yet there was not a thing he could do about it.


	2. Beyond the Window

_Hello again, and thanks for reading! I am enjoying writing so much I couldn't wait to get started on this chapter, so here it is. Don't worry, new points of view and explanations will come in time, I have a plan and the pieces of the puzzle will be slowly but surely coming together._

Saturday.

Just another day of the week as far as he was concerned. There were minute differences, like the fact the food came later because the Human had the uncommon opportunity to sleep in. Like the fact that there was often something "special" in the salad mix on Saturdays, like berries or some such. Big frickin' deal.

He looked out the large picture window that provided his daytime entertainment in nice weather, watched as tiny droplets collected on the glass and then as rivulets made their way to the sill. _Rain. Great mirror for my mood. But then, it'd be raining every day._

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. The clock on the mantle caught his attention as it chimed ten times. There was the soft sound of creaking boards as footsteps made their way down the hall. _Right on schedule._ The Human, mouse-brown hair sticking up in every direction, appeared in the doorway. Stifling a yawn, he stumbled over to the glass cage.

"Hey Sampson, hey Delilah. Looks like you guys need some more water. Be right back." Sampson, what a lousy name. He thought he remembered a story about a man named Sampson, whose wife had betrayed him, but who had at one time possessed super strength. Again, he had no idea where such a memory might have originated since the Human didn't exactly sit in front of his pet turtles and read them bedtime stories. No matter what, though, the name didn't _sit _right at all. It made him feel like a pansy, regardless of the namesake. This irritated him to the point of turning to face the back wall whenever he was referred to in such a manner.

The Human returned with a bowl of fresh water, frowning slightly when he saw his male turtle's posture. "Ya know, dude, you always act so grumpy in the mornings… but listen to me trying to give you a buncha emotions, hah!" Chuckling to himself he made his way over to the couch, letting out a breath as he plopped down and turned on the television.

His irritation turned to misery as he reflected on what the Human had just said… how could he ever demonstrate his human mind, trapped in a turtle's body? Hell, he couldn't even explain it to himself. _You have no idea, buddy. No idea. If you did… well, you seem like a nice guy. I expect you'd be horrified to think of this mind wasting away, in a cage. Nothing to challenge me, to fan the flames of my will to live._

In an attempt to pull himself out of these depressing thoughts, he focused his attention on the television. The news was on. Some story about another break-in, at an institute of research and development. He thought he'd seen the same building on the news station once before, describing an amazing new discovery they had made. But unless it was a revolutionary invisible glass-cutting rapelling device that could be wielded by a pet turtle, he wasn't that interested. Whatever it had been, he hadn't taken enough notice to remember.

"It was like there was just one, and then all of a sudden they was everywhere," a security guard at Innovolutions Technologies was saying on the screen. "I couldn't even see them, they was clinging to the walls like Spiderman or something, and had these black Kung-Fu outfits on and were sneakin' around like they was part o' da architecture, ya know? Before I knew what was happening, they started layin' a beatdown on me and I couldn't even grab my piece to ward 'em off! Then, without makin' so much as a freakin' sound, they was GONE. And so…." here the guard made a small moaning sound and hesitated just a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper. "… and so were da plans."

Muttering, he buried his head in his hands, which were trembling slightly from the aftershock of an adrenaline surge. "Sir, what did you say?" The reporter ventured to ask.

"I said, in all my yeahs, I ain't nevah seen anything like it. I think I've come to da moment we all knew we'd face one a' dese days, where we say it's time to hang up da badge… I mean when ya can't protect somethin' that big , then as hard as it is to admit, ya gotta know it's time ta let someone else step up."

Thoughtfully, the male turtle munched on a raspberry; he had to get what he could before Delilah came lumbering over to suck up all the food like a vacuum cleaner. He glanced out the window again, noticed that the rain had stopped and there were even shards of sunlight breaking through the clouds over the building across the street. However his mind was on the robbery that had prompted the security guard's statement.

_I wonder what all the commotion is about. Seems like there's a break-in at some lab every time What's-His-Face turns on the tube. Should be obvious they're looking for something in particular._

The reporter turned to face the camera. "So there you have it, folks. A team of thieves disguised as Ninja assassins, shrouded in mystery yet appearing over and over again right here in New York City. And this time, it looks like they've gone too far in stealing a top secret pesticide device from Innovolutions Technologies."

As the reporter summarized the story, a security camera video replayed a few seconds' captured footage from the previous evening's events, barely showing a bunch of willowy figures dressed in black, maneuvering around the room in a decidedly inhuman fashion. Suddenly one ninja's face appeared for a millisecond right in front of the screen, bug-like eyes gleaming eerily in the faint light of the recorder, before everything went black.

The reporter reappeared as she went on, "I'd have to have a security clearance to obtain any information about the stolen product, but suffice it to say that my sources tell me it could prove absolutely catastrophic in the wrong hands."

_Heh, I knew it. Something in particular. And it looks like they found it. _

The Human snapped off the television, stretched and settled into a new position on the couch, pensive, brows knitted together . "Hmm, Innovolutions. They do a lot of stuff for the pest control market. Wonder what these guys'd want with that piece of the pie. Strange altogether, really, the whole thing. I mean, a buncha Ninjas in the Big Apple? Sheesh, what'll they think of next?!"

The Human, a young man of about 25, was an associate professor of organic chemistry at Long Island University, whatever that meant. This sounded particularly boring to the turtle, but the guy made up for it by running all over the place snapping pictures of wildlife. He was some kind of a nature photographer on the side, and his stuff was really good. Kind of a funny hobby for a guy living in New York, New York. Still, it got him a nice balance of fresh air on the weekends between grading papers, and seemed to suit him just fine.

The man had some of his photos on display in the apartment, and these were certainly nicer to look at than white walls. However his hobby did have a slight dark side, as far as the turtle was concerned. A couple of times each month, a group of kids would come over and the Human would lead them all on a kind of walking mini photography class somewhere in the City. Their parents would drop them off at the apartment, and every last one would run straight for the aquarium, without passing go. Then they'd get all grabby and the same thing would happen all over again at the end of the class.

Now, as he understood it this group was made up of kids that had a particularly hard time with some of the social aspects of school, and were leaning towards using bullying and threats as coping mechanisms. Their parents, and the young professor, were hoping to avoid future gang enlistments by giving them this positive outlet. This was all well and good if you were a parent, or one of the kids, but really bad news if you happened to be a turtle.

When the deluge descended, Delilah would just suck into her shell and wait patiently to be put back down into safety, but he would staunchly refuse to do any such thing. Consequently, he was found more interesting and was handled more. A lot more. Still, you don't bite people. You live in a glass cage with absolutely no means of escape, and all you can do is wait for food and water to magically appear from the sky – by human hands. He had to remind himself of this logic, say it over and over like a mantra, whenever any of them got too rowdy. There was always one kid in particular that drove the turtle's limited self-control to the very edge. But, you don't bite people. Period.

Today was photography class day, so he guessed it was a "special" day after all. Great, just great.

*******************

That evening, the tornado of youth had come and gone and a different sort of storm was creating its own cacophony outside over the City. The Human was making adjustments to his digital photographs on the computer across the room. With an emotionally exhausting day behind him and nothing to watch on TV, the turtle found himself staring out the picture window, lost in thought.

Rain was pelting the glass, a stroke of lightning and then…. wait, what was _that_? He thought he'd seen something outlined in the sudden burst. He could feel his pulse quicken as he waited impatiently for the next flash. Yes, there it was again, it was not his imagination as he had hoped. Inconceivably, one of those spidery Ninjas with the bug eyes was peering through the window.

_What?! _What could they possibly want from this quiet little bachelor pad? From a professor who minds his own business, takes pictures of birds and volunteers his time on behalf of troubled kids. _What could they possibly want from that?_

Pulse quickening, he swung his glance towards the Human, oblivious to everything outside the bounds of his computer screen. _Look up, look up! There's a bad guy in your window and you don't even know it. I'm the only one who notices and what can I do, what can _I_ do?_

His heart thundering in his eardrums he stumbled towards the front of the aquarium and then, without hestitation, began slamming his beak against the glass panel. Nothing. In the pouring rain, he couldn't be heard and the Human didn't so much as flinch.

He pounded harder, to the point that his beak began to sting from the impact. _That's gonna smart in the morning, but… Must (thwack) Keep (thwack) Going! _He glanced toward the window. Another flash of lightning, the same figure perched on the ledge, peering in. _Are you gonna try and come in or are you just gonna sit there and drown? _Panic seeping into the corners of his mind, he began getting the rest of his body involved, slamming his carapace against the glass in alternating rhythm with his face. To no avail.

Then, for just a moment, the rain let up a bit and softened its roar. The young professor paused from his work, cocked his head in the direction of the living room, and then shifted in his seat and turned toward the aquarium.

"What on earth?" He rolled back his chair, stood up and approached his habitually silent companions.

The turtle ceased his noisemaking, pulse still racing as much as it may for a reptile, and spared another glance at the window. Just as the Human reached the glass cage, another flash of lightning revealed an empty windowpane. The dark figure was gone.

The Human reached in and picked up his male turtle, examining him with an expression of great interest. The turtle stared back, his mind turning over a thousand questions at once. What would the guy make of his frantic episode just now? Would it now be possible for him to somehow prove his intelligence, to break through the boundaries of disbelief? But most urgent of all, when would the mysterious ninja return? Would it be with many others, in great force? And for what possible purpose? Did it have something to do with that chemical they stole?

"What the heck was that, boy, are you sick? Maybe we'd better run and see the vet this week, eh?" He turned his pet back and forth, looking at one or the other side of his face, checking for a physiological source of such unusual behavior. "I'd better check your diet with her or something, make sure you're getting enough calcium." He put him back down on the sand and headed off toward the bedroom.

Sigh… maybe those boundaries of disbelief were tougher than he thought. Imagining various scenarios in which he could amaze his "owner" and somehow eventually gain trust and freedom, he settled into a somewhat troubled sleep.

Several hours later, he woke up in the midst of another strange dream. This time, he couldn't remember what it had been about. However, once he settled down and regained his bearings, he was absolutely certain about one thing, an answer he had not had earlier in the evening.

The Ninja he'd seen so clearly in the window was not there for the young professor. _It's me. They were looking for me._


	3. Brothers Lost

_Wow, your reviews really inspire me to get to writing more, even to the point of putting life off! Haha, just messing around – but thanks a ton for the kind words! A little more gets uncovered here… _

Massive wooden doors creaked open, and after a few soft steps into the grand room's lush carpeting, the weary ninja dropped to the floor in a deep bow.

At the opposite end of the room, a Japanese man stood from his throne-like seat and haughtily descended a wide stairway. He fingered a razor-sharp bladed gauntlet in one hand, as if readying it for use if he deemed it necessary.

The ninja trembled slightly in the presence of Oroku Saki, a man who had garnered respect among many of New York's citizens, but who inspired dread and loathing among those who knew him better.

"What news have you for me, soldier?"

"Favorable news, my Lord. We have found him."

"Excellent, I see that proper motivation reaps a proper reward." That his master idly placed the gauntlet on a table behind him did not escape the ninja's notice. "Now, go, and summon Karai. I need to speak with her, alone."

Within five minutes a lithe female dressed in black entered the chamber without knocking. Saki acknowledged her with a slight nod.

"Karai, our search is over. The Foot ninja have located Raphael. Now, it is only a matter of time before he is mine. I need you to prepare my men, so that we can proceed."

"But, Father, you have never explained, and I do not understand. From what you _have _told me, he is just an ordinary turtle. How could you possibly know of his identity, of his location? What on earth would you want with him, what possible threat could he offer to you?"

The Shredder frowned, almost invisibly. None but Karai could question him without immediately regretting it.

"My dear Karai, all will be explained in time. I want to be certain of a few things, before I reveal more. I will tell you this – he is not of this world, and that sort of disturbance leaves metaphysical traces that can be detected by those with the right amount of knowledge and power. In the hands of the right scientists, whose company I always keep, the means of detection can be channeled into devices that can scan the entire city, apartment by apartment. As to the rest, it would be most wise to trust me for the time being. Now, get everything ready as we had discussed."

Karai nodded and left the room. She was not entirely pleased. Acting without having a complete understanding of the situation at hand was not really her style. She considered it foolish, and subject to weaknesses.

*******************

He awoke to that uneasy feeling, the one you have when you _know_ you are being watched. There, about two inches from his face, a glistening eye stared at him.

_UUUNGH! WHAT the_… He reared slightly, staggering backwards in his surprise. There was Delilah, eying him glassily while rolling a piece of lettuce around in her mouth. She reminded him of a cow chewing her cud, which was not a compliment.

Geez_, lady, you wanna give a guy a heart attack?_

The female turtle turned and began to plod away, not appearing the least bit concerned about the cardiovascular stability of her companion. It was unusual that she had beaten him awake, as fitful as his nights were, as well-stocked with disturbing, fleeting images as his subconscious was.

Lately, though, he had been sleeping through the night, and could remember no dreams that might question his existence. Two weeks, it had been two weeks since the ninja had appeared in the window, and they had been quiet and peaceful, with no signs of trouble. In fact, he had actually let down his guard enough that he was almost beginning to accept his life in the small aquarium. Almost. He thought that he was probably just reacting in relief, that no further threats to his safety had presented themselves.

He had tried several times in vain to get the Human to notice that he was more than just your average run-of-the-mill terrapin. Drawing figures in the sand turned out to be a bust, as his arms were so blunt all he had succeeded in doing was making it look like a Zen garden of some kind. One day he made a smiley face out of tomatoes and peas, but the man was totally oblivious and after about five minutes, Delilah had eaten the right eye.

His efforts were rewarded only with a visit to a veterinarian about five blocks away who specialized in reptiles. After poking and prodding him in all sorts of horrible places, she pronounced him fit as a fiddle and prescribed an additional dietary supplement that tasted like chalk on leaves. She had suggested to the young professor that his pet may be in need of additional behavioral enrichment. This latter recommendation made it almost worth the humiliating visit, because the turtles were now set free to crawl around the living room for about an hour each day.

Today, during his brief period of freedom, the turtle was resolutely attempting to demonstrate to the Human that he was reading the morning newspaper, cast forgotten to the floor. Some obituary about a guy named Arnold Casey Jones, killed in Central Park by a bunch of street thugs. Some vigilante that had an ax to grind and tried to take them all out on his own.

Each time the turtle approached the paper, the man kept pulling him off of it, afraid he thought it was a toilet. Seething with frustration, he turned his attention partially to the news on television when a special report caught his interest.

Apparently, a gang of street-fighters known as the Purple Dragons had been on the rise, and theft and assault were getting to be such that no one felt safe in the city at night, in any capacity. They had victimized a number of people, but tonight's story had a happy ending for the young businesswoman who was being interviewed after a close shave with several gang members.

"Oh, I tell you, I thought I was a goner. There were five or six of them, and in my fright I took a wrong turn. Before I knew it, they had somehow cornered me in a dead-end alley. I was resigned to what I was sure would be a horrible fate. They grabbed my handbag, one of them sniffed my hair and I thought, 'This is it, this is where my life starts to flash before my eyes. I can't believe this is actually happening to me' and so forth. Then, all of a sudden, these gang members just started flying through the air! I thought my eyes were deceiving me, but then it was over as quickly as it had started, and there they were, bad guys just piled up under the fire escape."

The interviewer was intrigued. "Sounds like a bit of a miracle, did you happen to see your rescuer?"

The near-victim's face transformed instantly from relief to hesitation. "Well… I'm not sure I want to say this on live TV and risk my reputation, but…" she glanced at the reporter, who was staring at her eagerly.

"Well, here goes nothing. As it is, I've had the biggest scare of my life, and am completely exhausted, so forgive me if I'm babbling at this point. First I'll say that the guys who saved me were experts in some type of martial arts, that's how they finished off my attackers.

"Now, I don't know if aliens have finally invaded or there really are monsters in basements, or if these were just about the best costumes ever made, but there were three of them, and they were… well, they looked like giant… _turtles._"

The newspaper now completely forgotten, he stared at the screen. Giant turtles. Something about this revelation was bothering him, like something was trying to awaken from the murky recesses of his clouded mind. Giant turtles, it sounded too bizarre, but strangely familiar at the same time. Did they have something to do with his fragmented dreams, play a part he couldn't remember?

The businesswoman on the screen was continuing, but he was now only half-listening. "…and they disappeared one by one down a manhole, just as the distant sirens began sounding. I mean, the _sewers_, of all the dank, disgusting…"

Click. The screen snapped and was black.

He turned his head, and found the young professor gazing intently at him, as though seeing him for the very first time.

The man reached down and picked up the male turtle, which he normally hated. Today, however, was different. There was something about the way the Human was looking at him that begged for his complete attention. So, naturally, he stared back, unafraid as always.

"Giant turtles, eh? Living in the sewers? That is too funny. Guess the lady's got a little post-traumatic stress syndrome or something, I know I would. Still, ya know what that just reminded me of, buddy? Makes me wonder whatever happened to your brothers."

_Brothers, what?!_ As the man was talking he started making his way back over to the aquarium. _No, no no no no! Don't sit me back in there and then just go on with your day as if what you say has no impact on me whatsoever. C'mon, just open your eyes to what I've been trying to show you, damn you! Or at the very least, just don't stop talking to me. Don't leave it there, just like that…_

Absolutely desperate, he began flailing in the man's arms. Mercifully, he paused at the cage and, without putting the turtle down, continued with his thoughts aloud.

"Yeah, that was a bad day in my childhood, with that near-miss car accident and me dropping your bowl. It's a wonder I was able to grab onto you, had to watch your three brothers slip through that grate, gone forever. I was so upset! You wouldn't remember, see I was just ten, so you were just a baby… aw, what am I saying? It's not like you'd remember anyway, little guy."

No, he didn't recall any of this. Nor would he ever. Otherwise, where would all his other memories have come from, incomplete as they were?

The professor was on a roll now, reliving a part of his boyhood he hadn't thought about for some time.

"What's kind of ironic about that lady's story is that your three brothers disappeared into the sewers, near where there was this little chemical spill. I wonder… nah, that's too crazy. They can't have survived down there."

The man glanced at his pet. If the turtle wanted to keep staring, he'd keep going.

"You see, for days after I first had you at home, you wouldn't eat, or move, or do anything. In my childish ignorance I thought you must have been missing your brothers so badly. I was so afraid you were going to starve yourself that I snuck out one night, back to that grate where I lost those little guys. I heaved off the cover, stepped down into the grossest place I hope I ever find myself, and looked around with a flashlight, like they'd actually still be around there. I didn't come out empty-handed, though. I found this weird canister marked 'TC-something,' I forget now. It looked like it had spilled, so I really carefully surrounded it by half a dozen plastic bags and put it in my backpack, with gloves on and all, and took it home. See, I was a science nerd back then too.

"As it turns out, all you needed was a little more heat. Shows what I knew about reptiles! I tried to study that goo substance, even tried altering it with my chemistry set. I was too afraid to touch it though. That little voice in the back of your head, ya know? Anyway, I couldn't tell anything about what I'd made it into and I finally decided it was bad news, so I put it back in the can, took it to Dad and told him I'd just found it on my way home from school. He grabbed it away immediately, said he'd take it to work and have them get rid of it. See, he works at Innovolutions Technologies, where they had that break-in a coupla weeks ago. I keep meaning to ask him about that, we just haven't talked in so long…"

By now the turtle was back in his glass enclosure, but he was too preoccupied to care. _There's a reason I can't remember what you're telling me, guy. It… none of this life with you… ever actually happened to me._

Disturbing as his mysterious origin was, he felt a rush of determination, a renewed sense of purpose. Whether he belonged in this place or not, he knew these brothers had survived and they were here, somewhere. He made a solemn vow that, despite his circumstances and their extreme limitations, he _would _find them, and then maybe they could help him to find himself.


	4. Beneath the Streets

_I want to issue a warning that this story definitely has the potential to get confusing from here on out, if I'm not careful. I will do my very best to explain and make things clear but let me know if you have problems understanding so that I can improve my explanations. Thanks!_

_Also, for your information I am writing this story based on the 2003 cartoon series. I grew up with the '80s series and absolutely loved it, but have found that the newer universe better fits the needs of this story._

*******************

_He was in the familiar room again, that place bathed in candlelight where he felt he somehow belonged. Tonight, however, the atmosphere in there was palpably tense, and he could feel the presence of multiple others. He could not make them out, but their attention was directed at him. The air felt almost… hostile._

"_I'm tellin' you bros, Saki's onto somethin' big here. I mean, he's searched a million laboratories lookin' for this stuff. And that Innovolutions place, it has top security, and he had to _kill _people to get past their defenses enough to steal that thing. I know he wouldn't usually bat an eye at murder, but he don't like to risk his precious reputation with the city officials, either, right?"_

"_Raph, we don't have enough information. I know that's never stopped you before, but I can't have you just go charging in there like the loose cannon you always are. We don't know what we're up against yet, and you risk endangering us more…"_

"_Yeah, dude, don't you remember what happened last time? Why doncha ever _learn_, Raphie-boy?"_

"_I have to agree, bro, we're still not fully recovered from that last disaster you roped us into before we were prepared, remember?" _

_Here he felt an unpleasant mixture of guilt and indignant rage. _

"_FINE. If all you guys want to do is sit around thinkin' about how nice it'd be to grow some frickin' spines and DO somethin', be my guests. I'm outta here."_

"_Wait – no, Raph don't go... _Raphael? Hey, this isn't him."

"Of course not, you moron, that's a female."

What?! He sat bolt upright as the brothers of his dreams faded away to join those of reality, in the unreachable shadows of his memory.

Groggily, he looked around. Something was NOT right. Wait… over there, on the other side of the glass enclosure. As his bleary eyes worked to focus, his blood froze at the sight that greeted him. A pair of black gloved hands was holding a squirming Delilah, upside-down.

Without a second thought, he shuffled, remarkably fast for a turtle, over to the pair of hands. Breaking all his rules about biting people, he latched onto the pinky finger with his open beak, instinctively clamping down with as much pressure as he could muster.

_Yeah, she can be pretty irritating, but she's never hurt anybody and I'll be damned if I let you bozos touch her. _

With a surprised hiss, the gloved hands let go. Delilah landed right-side-up on the sand and instantly disappeared inside her shell. Before he could react in any other way, the male turtle was lifted into the air and, in his shock, released the finger he was gripping with his mouth.

"Wow, this has _gotta _be him. Heh, he knows we are enemies already!"

To his dismay, he was turned toward a face, the same expressionless visage that had appeared in front of the security camera on the news. The same gleaming bug-eyed stare that had greeted him from the window a couple of weeks ago. It was much more intimidating now that it loomed over him with no barriers whatsoever, but nothing, _nothing_, would make him retract into his protective shell.

He swung his head toward a second voice as it spoke. The figure underneath the ninja get-up was obviously that of a woman. "He's just a regular turtle, you fool, acting on instinct. He doesn't have any intelligence or personal feelings about us here. Besides, we know it's him from your scanner readings before. They are just as strong now, are they not?"

"Yes, Mistress Karai, this is definitely the same turtle. The device is reading exactly as it had before."

"Then we are wasting time here, we must leave this place."

He had just enough time to notice the open window, curtains fluttering lightly in the breeze, the haze of city lights brightening the dead of night beyond. Before he could register anything else, he was shoved into a dark, enclosed space, a bag of some kind, flopped over on his side with no solid surface upon which he could rest. It was very difficult not to panic. Robbed of his vision and hyperventilating into air that was rapidly becoming stale, he felt himself being flung about for the next several minutes.

He had mixed feelings of relief and dread when the swinging motion finally stopped. He felt himself moving smoothly upward for several minutes. Next, he felt the bag being lifted and jostled a bit, then the top was opened and he was deposited onto a smooth red carpet.

Before he could react, he was lifted again, and found himself staring into a face that he was sure had haunted his nightmares at some point. The face consisted only of leering red eyes that pierced through him from behind a severe metal mask. The familiarity of it was _not_ welcome; it made his blood run ice cold just as he was sure it would have in his dreams.

One of his abductors spoke from somewhere behind him. "Master Shredder, as promised, we bring you Raphael."

A deep, rumbling voice emerged from behind the mask. It was a voice that he was sure could fell skyscrapers, should it so choose. "It is a pleasure, I am sure, to find you so easily in my service. You give me not the slightest challenge in this world, little one. It is almost disappointing."

He was overcome suddenly with the despairing knowledge of just indeed how helpless he was. Here he was, against his will, in the hands of this monstrous figure, and there was nothing he could do about it. This horrifying feeling almost overshadowed the realization that he had been called by name. A name that had been used by the ninjas when they'd first found him, but he'd been given no time to savor it then either. _Raphael._

The voice boomed out. "Karai!"

The female ninja appeared by her master's side. "Yes, Father."

"We have no time to lose. We must get the device in place. Then you must return him before his owner awakens and realizes he is missing."

A red-headed man in a white coat that Raphael had not seen a moment ago suddenly appeared before him. The next few moments passed in a frenzy of motion and activity, highlighted only by a few seconds of excruciating pain as a huge needle was shoved into the base of his neck, just under the lip of his carapace, and something was injected under his skin. How gentle the veterinarian's hands had seemed, compared to the rough treatment he was receiving now. Still, no matter how much it hurt, he would _not_ flinch, or retract his head. He would not give them the satisfaction.

The evil voice spoke out again. "Now, we must run a brief test, to ensure the device is working. Karai, I will now shed some light on our plans for this turtle. As for the rest of you, leave us now. Dr. Chaplin, we will meet you in the lab momentarily."

Without skipping a beat, the man in the white lab coat, the second kidnapping ninja and an array of guards filed out of the room.

"Karai, as you know there is a very special product that we have successfully obtained from Innovolutions Technologies."

Instantly, Raphael was intrigued. He felt like he'd heard this somewhere before. Yes, the break-in had been on the news, but there was something else, something a bit more personal…"

Karai nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, Father, I've read the reports on this product. They say it has the capability to annihilate an entire species, starting with the infection of a single individual from that same species. A substance that, once discovered, was modified with the hopes that it could be used against creatures that have plagued mankind for centuries. There is talk that this could become the greatest innovation in the history of pest management, that it could revolutionize agriculture and even industry. Oddly, they have nicknamed it 'Darwin's Curse.'"

The Shredder regarded Karai quietly for a moment. He had been carefully withholding information until the turtle was safely in his hands, but his daughter had clearly done her homework.

"Your familiarity surprises and somewhat pleases me. Then you may also guess that we have much to gain from the use of this device, considering the control we desire over this world, and the enemies that stand in our way. However I expect you do not realize that we are at a standstill. 'Darwin's Curse' requires very specific conditions for its use. Dr. Chaplin has been working many late hours, wracking his brain to discover those conditions. However, nothing he has come up with has been able to activate the substance. Due to its extremely dangerous nature, the information we seek is top-secret. There is only one man who has the knowledge we need, and that man is Dr. Robert Bronson. He is a chemical engineer at Innovolutions Technologies, and the father of the young man who owns this pet turtle."

Raphael inwardly gasped in surprise, remembering the evening before. "…_I finally decided it was bad news, so I put it back in the can, took it to Dad and told him I'd just found it on my way home from school. He grabbed it away immediately, said he'd take it to work and have them get rid of it. See, he works at Innovolutions Technologies, where they had that break-in a coupla weeks ago. I keep meaning to ask him about that, we just haven't talked in so long…" _How on earth did this madman know about the professor and his dad?

The Shredder continued. He was casually holding onto the turtle as though he didn't realize he was there, but he had Raphael's rapt attention now. "Unfortunately for us, Dr. Bronson has disappeared. None of our Foot ninja have been able to locate him. This is why I have brought you over from Japan, and why we have this turtle now. I feel strongly that Dr. Bronson will contact his son in secret, and enlist his help in protecting the secrets of this chemical, knowing that it is now in the wrong hands.

"Actually, Dr. Bronson has always been of the mind this discovery was better left unmade, and he's the one that labeled it with its nickname. I can only assume that once he meets with his son, they will attempt to destroy it, and everything associated with its invention. We cannot let this happen. We must obtain the information we are missing, before it is lost. Raphael will help us to do this, thanks to the implant that Dr. Chaplin has placed. It will allow us to access his memories, everything he sees and hears, once he is back at young Bronson's apartment. We will recapture him and collect the information. Once we have activated this 'Darwin's curse,' we will perform a field test on those accursed mutant turtles that have been thorns in my side for much too long."

Karai knitted her brows, puzzled. "But, how…"

The Shredder cut her off. "Again, we will have a use for our Raphael here. If it is possible to do so, I wish to mutate him into the same species as his so-called brothers. Then we can inject him with the pesticide chemical and free him into the city sewer system. His brothers will eventually discover him, of that I have no doubt, and it will spell their doom as he passes the deadly poison onto them."

Karai glanced nervously at Raphael, whose head was reeling with everything he'd just taken in. "Father, there is much that I still don't understand. Mutate? _Brothers? _And why would you go to the trouble of involving this turtle, why not bug the man's apartment, or kidnap and torture the information out of him? I mean, you just revealed everything to Raphael, and we are relying on his memories to…"

Again she was interrupted, and this time the Shredder's voice held a distinct tone of impatience. "I said everything he sees and hears, not understands. He is nothing but an animal, although this microchip we've placed will allow him to be more of an input-output machine for our use. Utilizing his memory changes none of that. Computers have memory, do they not?"

Raphael stiffened at this response; he desperately wanted to say something, _anything_, to show the Shredder just how wrong he was about his intelligence. After just a moment, however, he collected his thoughts and reminded himself that the incorrect assumption on his enemy's part could potentially serve as a distinct advantage. He focused again as the Shredder continued.

"As to the method of collecting the information, that is a story for another time. Just know that this turtle is the key to our control of this chemical, and thus complete power over our enemies, in another world as well as our own. Now, we are a few hours from daybreak. We must complete our test, and return Raphael to his home."

As they descended in the elevator, Raphael's alert mind was swimming with questions in light of this new information. He was especially intrigued by the mention of his brothers. He _had _to find them, to warn them, and get their help in preventing this twisted future from unfolding. He began running through possibilities for escape, as they entered a clean, white room that was alive with the hum of machinery. However, apprehension overcame all other thoughts as he felt himself being placed on a hard metal surface, and a device fitted over the back of his head. The device surrounded his neck snugly at the base of his skull, and reached back to contact the opening of his carapace. When no one was looking, he tested it, and found himself unable to pull his head back, even if he'd wanted to. _Wonderful._ He had a very bad feeling about this. The man in the lab coat approached him again.

More needles. God, he hated needles.

Unimaginable pain in the back of his head. For the first time, Raphael was glad he was unable to talk, for he would have been screaming.

On an LCD screen in the front of the laboratory, the entire conversation upstairs was replayed, from Raphael's point of view. He was in too much pain to really pay attention, and the playback seemed to last for hours. Finally, the elevator doors appeared on the screen, and the sources of torture were removed.

The man in the lab coat turned from the screen, his eyes shining with excitement. "Well, Master, I'd call that a successful test."

"Well done, Dr. Chaplin. Let us hope that next time, we retrieve what you need to overcome your failure to get this pesticide up and running."

Raphael was placed in a sack again. He was limp from exhaustion, and offered no resistance, though he was vaguely aware of his need to escape. Before he could recover his scrambled mind, he was once again flopping around in the bag as the ninja carrying him exited the building and became a moving part of the city skyline.

Soon, the movement of the bag against the masked figure's body became more rhythmic, and Raphael's disorientation gradually subsided.

_Think, man, think. You gotta get outta here. No matter what happens, you cannot let them get you back to the professor. _

He tried to make sense of what he'd heard in the Shredder's chambers. He didn't fully understand how they managed it, but he knew that whatever information that could be accessed through him, once he was planted back into his home, would prove deadly to his lost brothers and possibly to many others. This Darwin stuff was a disaster waiting to happen, and he and the professor were this Shredder's key to unlocking its potential.

_Well, not if I can do anything about it._

Slowly, painstakingly, Raphael managed to wriggle himself around until his face was smashing into the bottom of the bag. He had to pause his efforts very few seconds to allow shooting pains passing through his neck, no doubt from the implant, to subside. _Bastards._ He pressed his claws into the stretchy black material, wrinkling a small amount of it up towards his beak. Then, he began to chew.

_Whew, this stuff tastes like hell. I wonder what else they've bagged in it before, roadkill?_

Relentlessly, he fell into a routine that matched the rhythm of the bag swaying in the night. Yank, rip, spit. Yank, rip, spit. Slowly but surely, a hole the size of his head appeared. He spread it with his claws. The bag was more friable now, and began to tear more easily across the seam. Yank, rip, spit. Yank, rip, spit.

With all his strength, Raphael stretched his front limbs in opposing directions. Then, everything happened at once. Just as he registered seeing a hard surface below, he felt himself slipping through his newly made hole with an alarming speed. Simultaneously, the ninja carrying him leapt across a gap. Suddenly free from the hold of the bag, gravity took over on his small reptilian body.

_Oh no, oh no! We're on the rooftops… how could I have been so stupid? _ Now as he plummeted towards the earth, gaining speed with every story he passed, his terror and frustration were replaced by resignation. He would never survive this fall.

_Well, at least they'll never get what they wanted out of me…_

However, before he could even complete the thought, his carapace hit something soft. Sliding, sliding, sliding… and then he stopped.

After what seemed like an eternity passed, Raphael felt his heart beating once more. _So that is what it's like to know you are going to die. I think I'll pass on ever feeling that again._

His initial shock subsided, and he began to survey his current predicament. He was upside-down, on what he guessed to be a roof awning, somewhere in the city. Gazing up at the sky, he finally realized it was raining as he began to feel large drops hitting him in the face and legs. Rainwater was gathering into a small pool around him.

_Great. Now what?_ _I get to lie here on a piece of canvas until I drown, starve to death or those ninjas come back and find me. What a set of fantastic options. _

A fourth option presented itself in the form of a gust of wind that knocked both Raphael and the small puddle onto a pile of now-soggy cardboard that had been set below the awning. _Sketchy welcome mat… at least it broke my fall._

Miraculously, Raphael had landed on his plastron and was able to slowly stand up and collect his bearings. He had just registered a storm drain in the curb right next to him when he heard the soft _thud-thud _of figures dropping quietly to the ground a few feet away. A hushed female voice followed.

"He's over there, get him!"

Raphael cursed the Foot ninja and their ability to find him so quickly. A hand reached toward him, snatching. Panicked, he tottered over to the storm drain and, without a second thought, thrust himself through one of the slats. He had just barely managed to fit.

The two ninja regarded each other for a moment. "Mistress, with all due respect, are you sure he's just an ordinary turtle?"

Underneath her mask, Karai narrowed her eyes, her own question being voiced against her desire. "Come, time is of the essence. I will return to the Master and explain the situation. Now, get yourself to a manhole and pray you find that 'ordinary turtle.' I will send you some additional ninja to help with the search."

Without another word, Karai vanished.

*******************

Down, down, down. He felt himself sliding through a seemingly endless series of pipes, thinking about how much he'd been out of control of his body's motion for the majority of this horrific night. Finally, he shot out of an opening in the drain system and fell several feet into a murky puddle. Taking in the odor and the sight of a film over the water, he shuddered inwardly and barely managed to pull himself to a dry area near the bottom of a large tunnel.

_So, this is the sewer system. Ain't I lucky._

Covered in filth, soaking wet, frigid and (though he would admit it to no one) scared out of his mind, Raphael pulled himself inside of his shell for the first time since he could remember.

*******************

He was awakened from a fitful sleep by a strange sound. At first not knowing where he was, he poked his head out and looked around the gloomy semi-darkness in fright. Seeing nothing new, he listened more closely to the noise. It sounded like… some sort of attempt at singing, with occasional bouts of whoops and yells, accompanied by a loud clattery racket that was vibrating through the entire tunnel.

When the noise reached an unbearable volume, he squinted towards the lighter end of the tunnel and made out a rapidly-approaching man-like figure. Just as the figure was practically on top of him, it flew up the side of the tunnel and then fell, unceremoniously, right in front of him. Two pairs of eyes, one enormous, one small, gaped at each other. Suddenly the larger pair of eyes disappeared as the face on which they belonged crinkled into peals of laughter.

In his misery, Raphael was ready to welcome anything, anything at all, over the horrible wet, stinking, fearful mess into which he'd gotten himself. But he definitely didn't see what was funny.

The giant figure spoke.

"Little dude, I don't know how you got down here, but this is like, no place for a turtle." More laughter. "Don't worry, you're coming with me. I've gotta show you to my bros!"

For once glad to be lifted up, he found himself staring into a lopsided grin on the face of a giant, humanoid, masked turtle. For the first time that night, Raphael felt a surge of hope. Somehow, he knew that he was going home.


	5. Brothers Found

_A/N: I am sorry for the long wait, everyone. Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoy this next chapter!_

*******************

"Now, if I can just reconnect this wire to the anode multiplier here…" Donatello Hamato stopped muttering to himself and held his breath. Gently, he set about the delicate task of repairing a critical segment of his early warning surveillance system's remote processor.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!"

Utterly startled, Donatello jumped as, without warning, the familiar voice of his hyperactive younger brother exploded through the tunnel hallway. As punishment for moving, he received an unpleasant _zap_ to his fingertips from sudden contact with the bare wire. Donatello shook his head.

_What am I doing messing with this equipment here? Maybe I should just clone Mikey and park each clone at a strategic point outside our perimeter. We'd hear him yelling from the lair which would give us plenty of time to prepare for intruders. Maybe we wouldn't ever have to worry about it in the first place though… we might all finish ourselves off before any enemies could get to us, from having more than one Mikey around. _

He couldn't help but smile at the unlikely idea as his brother Michelangelo came into view, flying up the side wall of the tunnel while performing one of his trademark skateboarding maneuvers. He landed neatly in front of Donatello, simultaneously pushing the board out from underneath with his foot and catching it in his left hand.

"Whatcha doin', Donny? Ooh, ooh, check it out! Look at what I found down near the old lair? He's like, our second cousin twice removed or something! So can I keep him? I know just the place, we can build a pen in my room and I can make a little pond and ooh, I wonder if he likes pizza!" The words tumbled out of Michelangelo's mouth before Donatello could get anything in edgewise.

Tucked into Mikey's belt was a small turtle. A red-eared slider, if Donatello knew his species correctly. He peered a bit closer, grinning.

"If I were inclined to be anthropomorphic, I'd say he looks a little bit perturbed with having been forced into participating in your acrobatic antics, Mikey."

"Well, I don't know about anthropologica… whatever, but dude, turtles always look grumpy! Now, what am I going to call him…"

Raphael was too busy staring from one giant turtle to the other to pay any attention to the conversation. Here, right in front of him, were faces from his dreams. These _had _to be his brothers, the ones that were lost in the accident years ago. Seeing them stirred up the cyclone of troubling thoughts he had earlier suppressed in order to combat his nausea from the death ride over to this tunnel.

He did not understand how it was possible that his subconscious could vaguely remember interactions with them, yet to them he was just some turtle they'd found in the sewers, a pet. It was almost overwhelming.

_My brain hurts… maybe I would have been better off just being normal. Bet Delilah never has needed to think about all this stuff…_

His thoughts returned to the present in time to hear Mikey in the middle of ticking off name possibilities. He had just suggested "Clyde" when Donatello cut him off.

"Not now, Mikey – let's head back to the lair so I can reboot the main processor and see whether it recognizes this station now."

"Booooooring. But I _will_ come with, so I can show off my new pet! Maybe I can stick him under Leo's sheets so when he goes to bed tonight he'll—"

"You know Mikey, if I was your little friend there I'd probably be sinking my teeth into your lovely opposable thumb right about now, but only because I wouldn't be able to reach your mouth."

Raphael had to hand it to Donatello, he seemed to have plenty of good ideas ready to fire off the tip of his brain. This guy definitely had a sturdy head on his shoulders. _Guess we did have a smart one in the family, makes sense he'd have all kindsa gadgets around to help protect us._

"Naw, Bob _loves_ to hear me talk, and he'll be all about being a part of my great prank ideas! Now c'mon Donnie, last one to the Lair has to clean his cage for a month! Too bad you didn't bring any wheels with you. Nyah ha hah!"

Laughing wickedly, Michelangelo took off once more down the tunnel, gaining momentum until he was hurtling at breakneck speed along the side walls and ceiling. Raphael clung wildly to a section of the larger turtle's plastron, his stomach protesting violently against the motions.

_I swear, if turtles could vomit I would aim it right at this little.. er, big twerp. And "Bob" ain't gonna cut it. I gotta let these guys know my real name. _

After what seemed like an eternity had passed, Michelangelo brought his skateboard to a halt, catching it in midair and landing lightly on his feet in front of an apparently sealed-off section of the tunnel. He reached upward and pulled down on an obscure piece of piping, revealing a touchpad on which he entered a five-digit code. The "seal" turned out to be a door that glided open with a faint creaking sound. Raphael was reminded of an _Indiana Jones_ movie he'd once watched through the glass cage with the young professor.

The young turtle bounded into a large chamber that boasted a circular pond and fountain as its centerpiece. The room was well-lit by a combination of electric lamps and candles, and was adorned here and there with various carpets and wall-hangings. To the left was a worn sofa facing an array of television screens, all different sizes, stacked on top of each other. _More Donatello-geekiness, I'm sure._ Gazing upwards, Raphael could see a narrow walkway with several doors lining the wall behind.

There was the faint scent of incense blending with the homey aroma of tomatoes and garlic, wafting no doubt from a kitchen somewhere. For a living space carved out of the New York City sewers, the whole picture was surprisingly cheery. Raphael could almost have smiled.

Michelangelo spent no time looking around the home he'd known for much of his sentient life. He bounded well into the room. "Hey Leo, Leeeeoo! Whereyouat?? I have a new bud, you gotta see what's winding up in the sewers these days!" Laughing, he scooped Raphael up into his arms and launched himself towards a doorway located on the opposite end of the chamber from the entertainment station.

_Geez, what's up with this guy, does he have an IV line in somewhere that's feeding him a Red Bull drip?_

Mikey entered a second large room that was obviously a training area of sorts. In one corner of a gymnast's pad sat a mutant turtle with a blue band fastened around his eyes. He was larger and more muscular than the other two, but appeared relatively harmless with his eyes closed in meditation. It seemed as if nothing would break his concentration, though Michelangelo was about to put that to the test.

Raphael stared. For some reason, this turtle provided him a clearer mental image of another life as neither of his other brothers had yet accomplished.

*******************

"_You have to listen to me, Raph. Master Splinter made me the leader for a reason. He knew I wouldn't just go charging into a situation without evaluating all the angles, making sure we're choosing the best path, the one with the highest chance for success. The lowest risk of our family's safety."_

"_Leo, you're so busy making sure you don't do things my way, you can't even see it when you're bein' _too_ cautious. Can't you see that every now and again it's time to shoot first and ask questions later? Those are the times when I come in, when I got somethin' to provide to the team. This is one of those times."_

"_Raphael, the only thing you provide to this team is the heartbreaking knowledge that someday you will no longer be a part of it. That someday, your rash hotheadedness will catch up to you, and we will be too late to stop it. The best we have to hope for is that you don't bring the rest of us down with you." _

_Raphael stood for just another moment, shaking with rage in response to his brother's uncharacteristically harsh words. Then, without another word of his own, he thundered up to the second level and into his room. The slam of his door reverberated throughout the lair, but it was not an unfamiliar sound to the other occupants. Inside, Raphael sat on his bed, head in his hands, too furious and too frustrated to turn to any of his usual outlets. He knew what he had to do, even if he needed to do it alone. That night, he cried himself to sleep, as he had never done in his life. _

*******************

Michelangelo began speaking excitedly, his words tumbling out almost on top of one another. The babble tore Raphael from what he was sure was the first memory he'd ever had while awake. And given its unpleasant nature, he was actually relieved.

The blue-banded turtle, Leonardo, was also unable to resist. He opened his eyes. His face was a mask of irritation as he heaved a world-weary sigh. "Mikey, I thought we agreed that you wouldn't disturb my meditation anymore?"

"I know, Leo, but _look!_ Don't you think it's weird that we found another turtle in the tunnel outside Donnie's early warning station? I mean, when have you seen a turtle in the sewer since us?"

"I dunno, Mikey, people flush reptiles down the toilet all the time when they get tired of taking care of them."

"Alligators bro, alligators. And maybe an iguana or two. But who flushes a turtle? They're so cute and cuddly!"

Leonardo allowed a slight smile to play at one corner of his mouth. "Well, I guess _we _have a lot of enemies who would like us to meet our end… but I guess I don't know about just a regular turtle. I would not have chosen the words 'cute and cuddly' though. Not even for you, Mikey."

At that moment Donatello entered the room, having made his way back from the perimeter station on foot.

Mikey turned toward his purple-clad brother, grinning cheekily. "Hey, you finally found your way home! I'll show you where we keep the cage cleaning supplies in a minute."

Donatello shook his head, "I don't think so, Mikey. Your pet, your responsibility. Besides, I'm the one that foraged us those supplies; don't you think I know where we keep them, goofball?"

Raphael was beginning to feel something indescribable, but that tended toward happiness, as he looked from one mutant turtle to the other. Even though they weren't aware that they could possibly interact with him, he couldn't help but to have a sense of belonging with them. Here they were, arguing and joking like a real family. Had he been a part of this at one time? Or had he held himself apart from it, until it was too late? He sensed somehow he'd been missing something before, for his memories of these brothers were not of warmth and unity, but of isolation. This was confirmed by the most recent and disturbing images that seeing Leonardo had provoked.

Raphael was determined to find out more about this life he'd known before, to make things right if necessary, though he knew he was facing an enormous challenge in his current state. At the conclusion of these thoughts, he realized the three mutant turtles were looking at him.

"So, you think maybe he wasn't flushed? I mean he's a little big for that. Maybe he fell down through a drainage grate as we did, an accident."

"Yeah, too bad there wasn't any glowing ooze tagging along behind him, then we might have another brother to deal with!"

"Don't worry, Mikey, you're enough for two brothers already."

Donatello was regarding Raphael thoughtfully. "You know, maybe we should take him back to where we found him and see if someone's missing him up top."

No. Raphael didn't like this train of thought at all. _This_ was where he belonged. It was way too dangerous for him on the surface, his safety _and_ that of his brothers depended on his remaining hidden. He didn't realize it, but he was shaking his head vehemently.

Donatello's casual gaze upon the little reptile turned into a full-blown gaping stare. One eye ridge raised to the ceiling, he looked Raphael right in the eye.

"Did you just shake your head?"

Surprised and a little unnerved by the rapt attention he was now receiving, Raphael nodded.

Mikey and Leo were staring now, too.

"Wow, we need to see what Master Splinter thinks about this, when he returns."

"_Yes? _Was that a yes?!"

Raphael nodded again, more vigorously. He felt elated, as though a huge burden had just been lifted from him. He was finally making some progress! These turtles seemed a lot more open to the perceived impossible than had the man back at the apartment, though it was no wonder why. He supposed their very existence fit that same description.

Mutated and normal-appearing turtles stared at each other, processing the opportunity that had just been presented here.

Raphael was just beginning to wonder exactly how hard he'd need to claw someone's finger to get his family to ask more "yes or no" questions, when a heart-stopping and most unwelcome wailing noise filled the lair. The perimeter alarm.

Mikey looked at Donatello, eye ridges raised. "Well, bro, I think it works."

Hand reaching for his bo, Donatello glanced back. "Yeah, but I certainly didn't want that proven anytime soon. This isn't a test, I didn't touch anything."

Baring his teeth, Leonardo unsheathed his katanas in a sweeping fluid motion. "Then let's not waste any more time, come on!"

Forgotten, Raphael was hastily set onto a couch cushion in passing as three angry turtles, brandishing their weapons, raced out the gate that had provided his earlier introduction to the lair. Digging in his claws, he hastily scrambled up the arm of the couch to peer at their backs as they receded down the tunnel.

_Oh no, no no. This is all my fault. They tracked me to the apartment, so why not down here too. I should never have let my brothers bring me here, now they are in grave danger and there's no way I can help them. _

With nothing else to do, Raphael waited, horrified as the sounds of battle cries floated back through the open entrance, growing ever nearer to the turtles' secret home.


	6. Belonging Where?

_A/N: Well, I got very quickly moving on this new chapter thanks to a long weekend and a group of reviewers who seem to be chomping at the bit (much love for you guys!). Enjoy!_

*******************

Leonardo, Donatello and Michelangelo swept through the sewer tunnels towards the source of the alarm. As they rounded the bend before the perimeter station, their eyes met a most unwelcome sight. At least three score of Foot ninja, advancing toward them in neatly arranged ranks. Upon seeing the turtles, the soldiers in the front re-positioned themselves into battle stances, weapons at the ready.

Michelangelo pulled his nunchakus out from his belt and began twirling them experimentally. "Well, Donnie, the good news is, your early warning system went off like it was supposed to. The bad news is, your early warning system went off like it was supposed to."

Donnie shrugged as he positioned his bo for an attack. "Well, Mikey, I guess they could have come at you on the couch, in the middle of one of your video games. What I'd like to know is, how on earth did they even get _this_ close."

Leonardo remained silent as he motioned for his brothers to take up their strategic positions. For just a moment, palpable tension hung in the air, and nothing happened. Then, as one, the deafening battle cries of all filled the tunnel and the turtles and humans rushed at each other with deadly intention.

The turtles fought as a well-oiled machine; in addition to their strength and skills as warriors, they were given the additional edge of fighting on their own turf. Every twist and turn, every small pipe, was known to them. However, these powerful advantages were not enough to overcome the sheer force of numbers. There were at least twenty Foot ninja for each turtle, and they could not easily be shaken off in such close quarters.

As the turtles began to wear down, their enemies pressed closer, as though they could smell exhaustion. Many of the Foot had been taken down; their bodies littered the tunnel floor. However, those remaining, as if on orders, turned in unison on the turtles' leader. Leonardo was holding his own, but even he could not see everywhere at once. A shadow approached behind him, and with lightning speed, he found himself pinned, with a tanto pressing none too gently into his throat, his katanas clattering uselessly to the ground.

The ninja focused his attention on his prisoner's companions. "Drop your weapons," his voice boomed out. Michelangelo's nunchakus swirled to a stop as though acting of their own volition. Next, without hesitation, came the sounds of wood and chains hitting the floor. Donatello's bo followed immediately behind. The remaining ninja, a surprising few, moved to surround the two younger brothers.

All time seemed to stop just then. Leonardo's nostrils took in the tangy mixture of sweat and blood as he observed the looks of horror on his brothers' faces, and the menacing glint of the weapons around him.

A figure emerged from the rear of the ranks. Leonardo narrowed his eyes. _Karai. I should have known. _The Japanese woman motioned for her ninja to stop. They froze, a picture of restrained impending violence, awaiting further orders.

"Ah, Leonardo. It seems that fate has a sense of irony, and would use it to mock us all. You are hiding something, something very important to me. An animal. A small turtle, in fact. His significance is meaningless to you, and you can avoid much pain and loss by doing as I demand. Give me the turtle."

Karai moved closer, until her face was inches from his. He did not blink, or relinquish his steady glare. "Leonardo," she hissed, "I will play no games here. I am on a very tight deadline, and there is no room for wasted time. Where. Is. He."

He took a breath, deep as he could with the enforced constriction on his throat. He was prepared for it to be his last, if necessary, to protect his brothers and their home.

It was then that Leonardo heard a faint sound. A sound he knew very well. The soft patter of the feet of a large rodent. A rodent who happened to be highly trained in matters of stealth. They might as well have been an insect's legs, as no one else in the tunnel could have ever picked out the whisper of a noise they made. Well, almost no one. Leonardo caught Mikey's eye. He had heard it too, and his eyes had widened. Fixing Mikey with what he hoped was a stern, earnest gaze, Leo shook his head almost imperceptibly, warning his youngest brother not to breathe a word.

The element of surprise was maintained, right up until the moment when a streak of gray came barreling from the shadows and flashed here and there among the evil ninja with deadly force. A split-second later, Leonardo felt the pressure release from the tanto at his throat, its wielder now thoroughly distracted. He wasted no time in joining his brothers and his Sensei in laying waste to the remaining soldiers that had, only moments ago, held the upper hand.

Unconscious and bleeding bodies carpeted the floor, dulling the echoes that normally filled the tunnel. Leonardo could still hear the shouts ringing, lingering, from the intense fighting that had now ceased.

Karai stood, statuesque, among the silent piles of her ninja, her ragged breathing borne more from a smoldering rage than from any previous exertion. She pulled herself together enough to speak.

"This was only a battle, Leonardo. You have no idea of the war that is about to rage upon you. This is but a fraction of the trained warriors that we can bring to you. With just a nod of our heads and a wave of our hands, they will surround you, choke you out, and reach our target. Your home is near, I can sense it. He is there, and we _will_ have him. Would it not be easier, Leonardo, to hand him over to us now, to avoid this pain and suffering that would be unleashed upon you and your brothers? He is but a pet, he means nothing to you."

Splinter gazed quietly upon his oldest son. He would not interject, though the object of Karai's desire was as yet unknown to him.

Leonardo's eyes never left Karai. "You know as well as I, Karai, that what he means to us is irrelevant. It's what he means to you that matters, and what you represent. I would stake my life on it that there is no honor in your goal here, so why should we ever help you achieve it?"

Karai bowed ever so slightly, mockingly. She turned, preparing for her flight. She was now too far for any of the brothers to reach her, thus no one made a move to stop her. Her eyes lingered on the eldest turtle one last time. "Trust me Leonardo, you _have_ staked your life on this." With that, she vanished into the tunnel junction from which her armies had emerged.

Michelangelo looked around at the unmoving forms of the ninja scattered everywhere, then held an imaginary device up to his mouth and ear. "Clean-up on Aisle 4 please."

Donatello snorted as he finally restored his bo staff. "Yeah, if only it were that easy. Just what I feel like doing after a battle, taking…" here his eyes scanned everyone in the area, conscious or otherwise, making an instant calculation, "twenty-two trips to the surface and back, and it's not even my day to take out the garbage!"

Leonardo stopped Michelangelo just as he was about to heave the first unconscious body over his shoulders. "Mikey, we will need your help in a moment, but first, run back to the Lair and make sure our new friend is secure. We need some answers, and he may be able to help us, as long as we don't lose him first."

Splinter regarded Leonardo once more, his eyes searching. "Perhaps, my son, you had better tell me about this 'friend' for whom Karai would set dozens of Foot ninja upon our home."

"Better than that, Master. We can introduce you."

*******************

Raphael had almost given up hope. Many minutes had passed since the sounds of the approaching battle had ceased, and he feared the worst. What cruel fate was this, to finally meet his brothers only to see them dead, or in the hands of the enemy, within hours of the reunion.

Earlier in his desperation over the sudden silence, Raphael had lost all patience with sitting still. He had lifted his claws, allowing himself to fall onto a carpeted area next to the sofa arm. Regaining his composure, he stopped long enough to breathe a silent prayer of thanks that he had landed on his plastron.

Wasting no time, Raphael set off in a beeline for the exit to the tunnel where the battle had been taking place. After what had seemed like a lifetime had passed, he had made it only halfway across the lair's main room. Determination and willpower were in no short supply for Raphael, but in the end he was still just a turtle. If something had happened to his brothers, this was a race that would _not_ be won by slow and steady.

_Peachy. Maybe, with any luck, I'll be able to make it to the fight scene before the next scheduled renovation of this section of sewers begins, or before I die of old age, whichever comes first._

Raphael's pessimistic cloud dissipated in the next instant, as Michelangelo came flying into the room, looking much too happy to be bringing news of fallen brothers. He was headed over to the couch, eyes darting around the room, when he almost tripped over Raphael. Looking down, his grin widened until it threatened to consume his face, as he scooped up the little turtle.

"There you are, dude! What, were you trying to come save us or something?" He laughed jovially at his own joke.

Anger rippled through the pool of relief that had washed over Raphael at the sight of his cheerful sibling. He seethed at the innocent teasing. _You have no idea how hard this is for me. _

His irritation was abated, however, when Michelangelo lifted him to his face, announcing that "Leo said to get you, so we could all talk to you later. Gotta go clean up a mess of whupped Foot ninja first though!"

Mikey leapt over a chair and swept into the nearest bathroom. He gently set the little turtle down into the bathtub and ran the water for a moment, filling about a third of the tub's bottom. "Sorry little bud, but we'll all be back later to getcha." He sprinted away, leaving Raphael to his thoughts.

_So everyone's ok? That's a relief… but it ain't a permanent one. They got to figure out she can track me, and she'll keep on tracking me, until the outcome's not so good the next time. Gotta warn them somehow… or maybe it'd be better if I just ran off? Seems like they're working on preventing that though. _He looked around the bathtub with its high wall and impossibly smooth surface. _Great. Just another day in a cage. And at the hands of my bros, no less._

*******************

Raphael didn't realize he'd fallen asleep in the tub until he awoke to the sounds of intense chatter.

"And did you see the way I split-kicked those two into opposite walls?"

"Yes, Mikey, we all used some good fighting maneuvers to bring their numbers down, but that's not the point. We'd have been toast if Master Splinter hadn't come to our aid. And it would have been all my fault, for letting that guy get the jump on me."

"Oh, Leo, don't go getting into one of your guilty modes again. You saw how many of them there were. You can only turn in so many different directions at once."

By this time, the voices of Raphael's brothers had reached the bathroom door. The three turtles entered and stared down at their diminutive ward.

"Well, what I want to know is, what on earth could Karai want with a little innocent turtle?"

Leonardo frowned thoughtfully. "Brothers, I think there's more to this 'little innocent turtle' than meets the eye. You saw the way he seemed to understand us, and could respond? There is something very strange going on here. And what's more, how the shell did she find him here, anyway?"

"I don't know, but I am assuming he's got some sort of tracking device on board, and I plan to take him into my workshop and see if I can find it." Raphael instinctively tensed as Donatello reached down to pick him up.

"If I may make a suggestion, my sons." Splinter had been listening silently until this moment. All four turtles' heads swiveled toward the wise rat. "Donatello, perform a quick scan for a tracking device if you would, but I have a feeling you won't find any such thing. Leonardo, Michelangelo, begin packing. We must leave our home, indefinitely. I do not know what this small turtle means to Karai, I only know that we cannot allow her to take him, for her intentions are surely evil."

Solemnly, Leonardo and Michelangelo nodded and disappeared into their bedrooms to begin preparing for the journey, wherever it would lead them.

Donatello carried Raphael gently over to his lab, and placed him on top of his worktable. "Don't worry little fella, I don't want to hurt you, we just need to see if we can find out how Karai found you here."

Raphael peered up at his genius brother, and shook his head slowly. _There's no tracker, bro, not really. Brainiac that you clearly are, you ain't gonna find some device like that. There are some things that science just can't explain._

Donatello didn't seem to notice the smaller turtle's gesture, and set about examining him thoroughly. He paused when he reached the leathery skin tucked just under Raphael's carapace. Noticing that it was ever-so-slightly raised here, he examined it closer.

"Hey, were you wounded here? That doesn't really feel like scar tissue though, it's too firm. It almost feels like an implant. I'm going to have to get in there."

Donatello left the table for a moment and when he returned, he was brandishing a small blade, a pair of forceps and some alcohol swabs. "I'm so sorry, little guy, this is going to hurt me more than it does you."

Raphael steeled himself for the coming incision, opening his beak threateningly. _You got that right, bud. _Before he had a chance to react, though, he felt one of Donatello's nimble fingers pressing down on his head, to keep him still._ This is so not fair, but I guess he knows what he's doin'. 'Sides, I can take this. This is nothin'._ Within a few seconds, Donatello had finished, and was holding the recording device implant triumphantly aloft with the forceps.

By the time Donnie had exited the lab with a fidgety Raphael in hand, his brothers were standing ready near the entrance with backpacks full of food, weapons and other necessities. Master Splinter left his meditation room to join them.

Leonardo looked to the next-eldest, cocking his head. "Well, Donnie, did you find anything?"

Donatello made a non-committal face and waggled his hand in a so-so gesture. "Well, I did make some progress. Looks like he was implanted with some sort of recording equipment. So I found that and removed it, which means that none of the Shredder's goons will be able to pick up on anything we are saying or doing. However, the chip did not have any sort of a homing signal attached to it, so it would seem they are tracing him another way. Using something I could _not_ remove, let alone detect."

Here, the elderly rat interjected. "Come, my sons. We must leave now that we are ready. The Foot will waste no time in their relentless search for our little friend. We will have to stop infrequently, and then only briefly. It will not be easy, but we will stick together in this."

As the mutant turtles hefted their packs, Splinter let his gaze fall on Raphael, who was starting to feel a little bit uncomfortable with all the trouble he was causing. The rat continued. "When we are resting, I will attempt to search the mind of this mysterious little turtle, to see if I can find anything there to explain why Karai might be seeking him."

Tucked in Donatello's arms, Raphael looked on while the entrance to the Lair was sealed, until the main room was completely out of sight. He was saddened a bit by how briefly he'd been re-acquainted with a home he must certainly have known well.

*******************

Karai arose from her slight bow in the Shredder's audience chamber. She would never kneel as the common soldiers knelt before their Master.

"Father, I do not know how it is possible, but he is with his brothers. We took more than sixty of your forces, but they were still no match for the three turtles and the rat. I did not reveal too much to them, but I fear they are on the run. We must increase our numbers, and cut them off while we can still find him. I am telling you, my Lord, he is not merely what you think he is. How could he have found his brothers in such short time?"

The Shredder rose wordlessly from his seat and strolled down to Karai a little too casually. Glowing red slits burned dangerously into her eyes, though she did not flinch.

"_I _will decide what I think, Karai. In fact, I had thought better of your abilities. How you could let this tiny reptile continually elude you escapes my imagination. If you do not retrieve him within the next 24 hours, there will be no point in keeping him in this world. In that case, we may have to resort to… other methods, for extracting information from the young professor directly. Though I have great confidence in my powers of persuasion, there is so much at stake here that I fear those methods will not be as effective as what this turtle could have offered. Let that risk be on your mind as you continue to hunt him down. And remember, you do not sit that far above my intolerance for failure, my daughter."

*******************

The mutant family had settled down for the night in the corner of an old subway station. Leonardo had insisted upon first watch, and was kneeling out by the tracks, listening for any evidence of a disturbance. Splinter had taken Raphael into one of the old forgotten cars, and began to meditate. Raphael wasn't sure what the old rat was getting at, but he attempted to follow suit. After several minutes of agitation and extreme difficulty in attempting to concentrate, he suddenly felt, rather than heard, the rat speaking to him.

_Little one, I sense that you are not from our world. I wonder how it is that you came to be here, and why it feels so karmic that you found us._

Hamato Splinter had not known what to expect, but nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.

_Wise rat Sensei, I don't know what I'm doin' here either, or whether you can understand me right now. I do know that I am a part of your family, or was, in some other time and place. I also know that we are all in great danger because of some information that Karai wants to use me to obtain. She is working for this Oroku Saki character, and I think maybe I can help you to understand what he's after._

*******************

Michelangelo awoke to find Donatello gently shaking him by the shoulders. "Rise and shine, Mikey, Master Splinter needs to talk to us."

"Man, is it time to get up already?" He didn't say more, however, because he noticed that his Sensei had returned with the small turtle, and that Leonardo was with him. The rat's posture and features spoke of urgency as he regarded his sons.

"What's up, Splinter? You look like you've seen a ghost – did Bob scare you?"

"His name, Michelangelo, is Raphael. And believe it or not, he is your brother."

*******************


	7. Beaten Path

_A/N: Ok, for all those who have been waiting patiently to find out what the heck is going on, this (I hope) could be a key chapter for you. Not that I can reveal all at once though… but thanks for sticking with me to this point! _

*******************

For one eternal second, no one moved. No one breathed. They all just stood there, faces frozen in masks of bewilderment, gazing steadily at Raphael until he squirmed uneasily in Splinter's arms.

Donatello was the first to speak. "Wh-what do you mean, Sensei? A-are you saying he's from some kind of alternate universe or something?"

Mikey did not relax his shocked expression. "Raphael?" he ventured in a small voice. It was enough to send a rare shiver of joy down Raphael's spine. His brother had just called him by name.

The news broken, the elderly rat went on. "My sons, it would seem there were four turtles in the glass jar that shattered the day of your transformation. It would also seem that while three of you were plunged into the depths of the sewers, covered in mutagen, and found by me; the fourth was somehow saved from the fall by his owner. By contrast, in the world from which Raphael has been brought to us, all four of you met the same fate. His spirit was somehow transferred to our world, where we do not know him, by a means mysterious even to him. However, he has brought with him memories of his life with us, that come to him in subconscious fragments, in his dreams."

It was almost too much for Donatello. "But, Sensei, if he was kept by a human, the boy that lost us, then how did he come to be in the sewer tunnel where Mikey found him? And why does the Foot want him? Do they remember him from his other world?"

Leonardo sliced into his brother's scientific curiosity with the speed of a katana blade. "Listen, I know we all have about a million questions right now. But we may not be around to hear the answers if we stay in one place too long." He swept his neatly rolled pack over his shoulder, silently suggesting that his brothers follow suit.

Splinter nodded in affirmation of his eldest son. "The wise prey provides a moving target for its hunters. When next we pause, allow me to tell you the story. Raphael's story."

*******************

"Mistress Karai, the signal remains weak when we are not near the turtle. However, I can say that it has not been in motion for the last several hours. If he is with them, the others have long since left the last place where we encountered them."

Karai regarded her guide carefully. "He is with them. You say the signal is weak, but can we tell where they are?"

"We have a general idea that we can then narrow down further. When we compare the radius of the signal's approximate location with these blueprints of the city sewer system, we can see that it overlaps with this section here, which includes the abandoned station underneath Thirty-Eighth and Lexington.

Karai did not allow him to continue. "That is enough. We have found them. Leonardo will have instructed them to set up camp in that station there, where he has maximum defensive capabilities against an organized assault."

One of the lower-ranking Foot ninja began to snicker from beside a forklift in the old warehouse where they were gathered. He nudged his companion. "Hey, maybe it's the little turtle that told 'em to spend the night there. After all, Karai says he's got smarts, so maybe he's their master strategist or whatever."

He never saw the sword coming, and was dead before he hit the ground.

Karai's eyes swept everyone in the room as she re-sheathed her weapon. "Let's go."

*******************

By the time Michelangelo finally piped up, his brothers were almost relieved, so long had they been walking in silence.

Almost.

"So, are we there yet?"

Leonardo sighed patiently. "What do you think, Mikey?"

"Ok, well, where_ is_ 'there?'"

This time it was Donatello's turn. "Mikey, we don't know yet. In case you haven't noticed, we're kind of making this up as we go along. We haven't exactly had to go on an enforced camping trip in these parts of the sewers before."

"But… but my feet hurt! Well, they did. Now I can't feel them anymore. Isn't that a bad sign? And aren't you hungry? I packed a coupla frozen pizzas, some matches and a bunch of newspaper. I'm hungry! And… uh… Raphael here just meditated to me that he was hungry enough to eat your bo staff, bro. And then where would you be?"

By the time Michelangelo had finished his monologue, Raphael, who had been riding on his shoulder, had inched closer until he was right up against Mikey's neck. Having achieved this motion unnoticed, he then did the only thing he could imagine would be appropriate in this situation. He pulled back one of his little clawed arms, and sent it flying forward to swat Mikey on the side of his face.

"HEY! What was that for?!" Michelangelo's look of shock and indignation over the surprise attack from his tiny brother was enough to send his mutated family members into stifled snorts of laughter. The tension brought about by their sudden flight from home and the certain pursuit was at least momentarily broken, and they all appreciated the reprieve.

The strange but complete family continued on in silence for a while longer. Suddenly, Leonardo tensed.

"Everyone, we need to back-track about 100 feet. That last left turn we passed, that smaller pipe, I think we can all squeeze into it."

"But why…"

"Just do it, Mikey! And keep quiet. _Trust_ me!"

Leonardo was the last to crawl into the cramped tunnel; he had insisted on helping everyone else in first. They scooted along as noiselessly as possible until, one by one, they dropped about two bodies' lengths into a shallow pool.

Once they had reached dry ground again, Donatello turned to Leo. "So, are you going to explain what _that_ was all about?"

"It's more a feeling than anything else, I can't really give you anything concrete. We were headed back towards our last stop on that other path and I just… sensed… that we would be running into trouble if we continued along that way. And you remember how Master Splinter is always saying that our instincts can be our most powerful allies, right Sensei?"

The eldest turtle and the rat master exchanged glances, and any further discussion seemed unnecessary. No one could argue; Leonardo did have solid instincts.

The turtles continued their deliberate journey through the sewers for about two more miles. Conversation was kept to a bare minimum. At one point Mikey had inquired about going up to the surface to confuse the enemy, but Donatello had nixed the idea by explaining that whatever tracking equipment the Foot were using, it was likely the signal was dampened by the moist, dank environment surrounding them below. Everyone was uneasy as they moved along, hyperbolically aware of each shadow, every sound that echoed through the tunnel.

After an eternity had passed, Leonardo came to a halt in front of a collapsed section of piping. Concrete was piled to the ceiling in front of the group, creating a dead end in the tunnel save for one small opening at the three-o'clock position. Wordlessly, Leo picked his way through the opening and disappeared into the darkness. The rest of the family waited.

And waited.

Finally, Leonardo returned, and nodded solemnly. "There's a room about 50 feet beyond this collapse, with an alternate exit on the south side, in case we need an escape route. I will _not_ back us into any corners. We can rest there. Donnie, you're up for watch."

There was, however, no need for an assigned post. Each of the mutant turtles insisted on staying awake, eagerly anticipating the tale of how their long-lost unknown brother came to rejoin them.

Splinter rested opposite his turtles, save Raphael, who was on his lap, ready to fill in the gaps should the wise rat require additional information.

"My sons, it would seem that after rescuing our Raphael here, the human boy who was your owner went on a search for the three of you as well. He never found you, of course, but he did discover the remainder of a certain chemical substance in a broken canister – the very mutagen that made you what you are today. A budding chemist, the boy inadvertently managed to alter the solution, but realizing he was in over his head, he gave it to his father to destroy. His father did not destroy it, however. He took it to his workplace, where he discovered the very unique – and very deadly – capabilities that the altered mutagen possessed."

All turtles listened quietly as their master relayed the story, just as Raphael had given it to him several hours before. The elderly rodent covered the events leading to Raphael's capture and the application of the recording device, followed by his relatively daring escape into the sewers. Occasionally, Splinter would pause to allow the little turtle to supply missing details.

No one seemed to notice the fact that Donatello had been staring, absolutely riveted by his Sensei's words, ever since he'd covered the part about the Shredder's interest in the substance and Dr. Bronson's unique knowledge of its requirements.

However, even Donatello's enormous focus on the story could not withstand what happened next.

Without warning, Raphael suddenly went rigid. His claws digging into his Sensei's kimono, he started mewling in an agonized fashion, his mouth opening and closing in rhythm with the noises. He then began thrashing about until Splinter firmly grasped him in his paws and lifted him into the air. He hoped to somewhat ease the torment that was obviously going on inside the turtle's mind… or at least prevent him from injuring his physical self as well.

_My son, my little son, can you sense me? What is happening, can you let me know so I can help you?_

_Master, pain…. so much pain…_

Raphael's responses came in short gaps and all he seemed capable of saying was that he was in an enormous amount of pain. For just one moment, probably less than a second, he blacked out. However, the mind requires amazingly little time to produce thought. In that moment, Raphael didn't know where he was, but it wasn't in his sensei's arms in a blocked-off sewer tunnel. He just barely registered something cold, all around him, when the pain suddenly intensified to a nearly unbearable degree, then it was gone.

The mental connection broke, but not before Splinter received a thought from Raphael's mind that was so consumed by excruciating torment that it blocked everything else out. Splinter nearly dropped Raphael, but managed to place him gently down. The rat gripped the sides of his head and gritted his teeth, rocking with the intensity of his son's suffering.

Leonardo, Donatello and Michelangelo had been looking on, alarmed. Now, they surged forward and surrounded the ninja master and the squirming turtle.

"Father, are you alright? What's going on?"

Mikey looked down at his tiny brother, eyes big as saucers. "Raphie? Raphie, snap out of it! What are you doing?!"

After several seconds that seemed to stretch into hours, Raphael's thrashing subsided and his breathing began to slow to its normal pace.

Splinter gave his smallest son a few minutes to gather his wits before probing his mind again.

_Raphael, can you tell me what has just happened?_

_It's the strangest thing, Sensei – one minute, I was just sitting there and the next… it was like my body was on fire, consumed by this horrific pain that seemed to be coming from my brain. Almost like it was hitting my body as an afterthought, just because it was there, in the way. I don't really know how to explain…_

Splinter did not push the issue, but deep lines of concern were etched all over his face. This was not over, and it did not sit well with him. He would have to meditate on the events that had just taken place, at the next opportunity when he was not being hunted by Foot ninja. He explained as much to his sons, who seemed to grudgingly accept the lack of a thorough understanding of Raphael's behavior.

Raphael's family decided to give him a little time to rest from his ordeal. Donatello parked himself in front of the turtles' self-made camp entrance, blocking the light with a piece of canvas from his bag and listening carefully for any signs of activity on the other side of the tunnel.

Mikey somehow managed to build a small fire and at least thaw the frozen pizzas he'd packed. The fare was mediocre at best, but everyone ate their share gratefully nonetheless.

After they'd finished eating, Donatello broached the subject he'd been patiently waiting to discuss with his tiny brother.

"Raphael. I think our only option here is to somehow make contact with your professor ourselves, and warn him of the danger he's in over his and his father's knowledge. It is imperative that we obtain the information he has, and that we use it to destroy this "Darwin's Curse" stuff that was made from our mutagen."

He looked thoughtful and murmured something, almost to himself. "You know, there are some things in this world that you just wish you could un-invent."

Reverting his focus back onto Raphael, he looked him in the eye. "Buddy, this next part is of critical importance. I need to know if you can remember where this guy lives. Where you lived until you were taken."

Without hesitation, Raphael shook his head.

"Any chance we could get some photos, or a map, and jog your memory of this apartment?"

Raphael repeated the motion impatiently. Frustration was no stranger to him, but between the dire situation at present and his distress over his recent, inexplicable ordeal, this was too much. How could they accomplish anything with this professor guy if they didn't even know where to begin looking for him? And the fact that they didn't know was all _his_ fault.

_I have no idea, guys. No idea. I really am pretty much good for nothing here. Just like you seemed to think I was in our other life... but for different reasons. When are you all gonna get it?_

"Wait, I've got it." Donatello's sudden outburst startled Raphael. "Leo, Master Splinter. I need to go back to the Lair."

"But Donnie, it's too dangerous, they were practically ringing our doorbell last night."

"I didn't know we _had_ a doorbell."

"Mikey, not now. Donnie, what do you need so badly that we didn't bring with us?"

"Leo, there's no time to explain. I have to get it now, before we have to face the Foot again. _Trust_ me. I have a plan, and it's the only way to get them off our backs. If we keep running like this, eventually it's going to catch up to us. Or do you think Karai will just turn around and go home?"

Leo said nothing in response, but nodded to acknowledge his confidence in Donatello's brainstorm. As the purple-banded turtle disappeared into the shadows of the tunnel wall, the young leader addressed the rest of his family. "Let's get going until Donnie makes it back. Then we'll rest for a couple more hours, if we can. Mikey, you'll be up for watch. I'll help Donnie so he can explain his plan… whatever it is."

Raphael was both mystified and wary. _Whatever it is, heh. I've got a feeling that I'm right in the middle of it, and that I ain't gonna like it. But I gotta admit, that braniac knows a thing or two, so I guess I'm in._

*******************

The Foot ninja in charge of the tracking mechanism had been lucky. Moments earlier, they had found the empty subway station, with no sign of any previous disturbance. There was not even a piece of a two-toed footprint to be found. No actual harm had come to him; however, Karai had eloquently explained that results from any further errors in judgment would be elevated up the chain of command. Such a prospect was far more fear-inspiring than any immediate punishment, for the Shredder's tolerance for failure was a mystery to no one.

The ninja began studying the tracking device with a renewed determination. He was so preoccupied that he did not even notice the edge of a purple bandana as it swept across the upper edge of his flashlight beam.

Upon reaching the Lair, Donatello made immediately for his laboratory. Once there, he began rifling through the organized chaos of papers and small electronics components on his worktable.

He hastily cleared off a stack of plans for a lightly-armored hotdog stand. Suddenly, his three fingers closed on a small plastic case that contained a number of tiny metallic objects. On the way out the door, he grabbed some antiseptic wipes and a sterilized suture kit. He allowed himself a few precious seconds to scan his family's home one last time, before dashing through the exit into the tunnel beyond.

*******************

Donatello was able to catch up to the others in no time, thanks to his ability to link to the signals from their shell cells. Everyone was relieved to be united once more; though Donnie didn't reveal his intentions until they had once again stopped. They huddled together inside an old pumping station.

Leo turned to his genius sibling. "Ok, Donnie, what have you got for us?"

Donatello needed no encouragement. "They are close, and getting steadily closer by the minute. I passed them once on the way to the lair, and they were rerouting themselves in this direction. The point is that as long as Raphael is with us, they will find us, guys. Which brings me to my plan…"

At this point, Donatello turned to Raphael, a very serious look on his face. Raphael did _not_ like where this was going. Were they going to ditch him to save themselves? He wracked his brains but could not once, not ever remember his brothers acting so dishonorably. Surely that wasn't the brilliant plan, to leave him to his fate…

Donnie was speaking directly to him now. "Raphael, I am afraid we are going to have to give you up."

_WHAT?_ Raphael's alarmed cry was echoed audibly by his other two brothers.

"Donnie, are you cracked?"

"No, Mikey, listen. I know this sounds crazy, but hear me out. Raph, don't look at me like that. This is the only way.

"We're going to fake a battle, but we have to be careful how we do it. We need for them to take Raph, but not without putting up a serious fight. We need it to be convincing, and we need for ourselves to get away unscathed."

Raphael was edging away from Donatello, feeling utterly betrayed. However, his younger brother scooped him up in one hand and eyed him meaningfully.

"Raph, they won't damage you. They need you whole so they can take you back to the professor's apartment before he wakes up and realizes anything has happened. They're going to think their recording implant is still intact, that we didn't discover it, so they won't mess with it.

Glancing at his confused audience, Donatello lifted the small case of metal pieces from his bag.  
"They're going to think your recording device is still in place, but really what they'll be seeing and feeling is this. A state-of-the-art, so-small-it-fits-neatly-under-the-carapace-of-a-turtle homing device."

The dawning of realization began to appear on the faces of his family members, save for that of the tiniest turtle who still looked utterly disgusted. Though that was hard to distinguish from any other emotion in his present physiological state. "Raphael, you don't know where the professor is. Karai does. They'll take you there, then we'll find you, meet the professor, revive him when he faints, then the rest of the plan will fall into place.

"Now, it's almost dawn – if they don't get you back there in time, you'll be worthless to them. In that case, they'll probably try and kill you, either in this life or in the other. We didn't discover you, brother, only to lose you again. We're in this together, we will NOT abandon you, but you have to trust me."

Here, Donatello finished, but his eyes were still fully on Raphael's face, searching. For a few seconds, nothing happened, as the little reptile appeared to be digesting everything he'd just been told.

_Man, oh man. I'm out of options here ain't I. _Raphael considered everything he'd just been through, and then thought about the risks his brothers had taken to protect him, and they didn't even know him. Clearly their every action was still driven by honor, a fact in which they took great pride. Furthermore, Donatello's decisions thus far had good sound judgment behind them, he couldn't argue with that. _I'll probably regret this, but it's the right thing to do. At least I'll be contributing _something_, in gettin' those Foot people off my brothers' shells._

Raphael lifted a clawed foot and placed it to rest gently on Donatello's hand. He nodded once, solemnly acknowledging acceptance of his role.

"Ok buddy. We have to be quick now." Donatello looked Raphael in the eye apologetically, and gently, ever so gently, lowered his head with his third finger. Before Raphael had time to think, a needle was stuffed under the tender skin below his carapace and the homing device was inserted. He set his jaw, waiting for Donatello to finish. A couple of swipes with the antiseptic pad later, the implantation was completed.

"I'm sorry bro," Donnie whispered, and patted Raphael on his shell. For once, he didn't mind. _I'm gonna miss these guys, but good thing I can't talk 'cause I wouldn't tell 'em that anyway. I hope they can find me quickly…_

Donatello had turned to the others, who had been waiting patiently, and fleshed out the details of what was to come. Just as the brothers and their sensei finished confirming their understanding of the plan, the air became ever-so-slightly heavier, as if a large group of people were displacing it nearby.

Leonardo regarded each of his brothers in turn.

"They're coming."

*******************


	8. Back to the Beginning

Donatello had just enough time to stuff Raphael into his belt when his eyes registered a wall of blackness engulfing the already-dim tunnel.

Clearly, the Foot had deemed reinforcements necessary after their last battle. Despite the fact that he was about to engage in a fight for his life, Donatello indulged in a small feeling of pride. True, their enemies had held the upper hand for a moment before Master Splinter stepped in last time, but the mutant family always seemed to pull through against overwhelming odds. Not typically a promoter of unnecessary violence, Donatello still liked to be reminded that they could take care of themselves. _Or protect those who aren't really able to do it on their own, _he thought, glancing at the small turtle nestled against his plastron.

Although Raphael couldn't read Donatello's mind, his own was smoldering with outrage over the fact that his brothers were risking life and limb for his sake while he could offer nothing at all. It was bad enough when he'd been trapped in the Lair while his brothers staved off the attack at the perimeter. Now, he had to witness everything from a front row seat, which went against every powerful protective instinct he had. It was enough to tear him apart.

The brief time for reflection passed as bitter enemies surged toward one another and adrenaline took over.

Mikey spared a glance at Leonardo and found that he was signaling for the younger turtle to cut off the advance on the left side of the tunnel. Donatello was flanking the right, and Leo had run straight to the middle of the fray. Unnoticed by all, Master Splinter was scurrying along the tunnel ceiling, a small turtle clinging to his kimono for dear life. In the confusion, Raphael had been stealthily slipped from Donatello's belt. He would not be taken without a considerable effort, lest their behavior arouse suspicion.

The rat dropped into a ready stance at the back of the Foot ranks, and before they knew what had hit them, dozens of soldiers were being tossed about like rag dolls.

Suddenly the brothers' leader was locked blade-to-blade with Karai, his teeth bared in a vicious snarl.

"Give him up, Leonardo," the normally soft-voiced woman shouted over the din. "He can do nothing for you. Is he worth the loss of your sentient family? I'm not sure I would live with myself if my decisions came to that end."

"I'm not sure you should live with yourself as it is, after renouncing all your honor," he retorted as he blocked a low swing from her tanto.

"I suppose I will have to just make it up to the world by ridding it of you instead."

Grunts of exertion, cries of pain and the thuds of falling bodies were magnified as they echoed through the sewer tunnel. The cacophony aided the turtles and their master as they attempted to create the sensation that they were everywhere, and to keep their enemies guessing while their quarry was passed around.

Mikey launched himself into a group of Foot ninja, sticking his tongue out as he concentrated on sending them scattering with his whirling nunchaku. He had created a path for Donatello, who planted his bo into the cleared space and launched himself to the other side of the enemies' ranks without hesitation. Just as the group around Michelangelo was recovering and preparing to attack him as one, Splinter appeared in front of his youngest son, eyes gleaming as he beckoned them closer.

Raphael was wishing more than anything else in the world that he could take a few good swings with a weapon at all the expressionless bug-eyed heads. But, such as it was, his time for action had come.

Leonardo locked eyes with Donatello over the sea of black ninja separating them. Donatello, who once again had Raphael in his belt, nodded in understanding. He dropped and rolled away from the soldiers that were confronting him, to create some distance so that he could use his bo.

But more importantly, so that he could slip Raphael safely onto the tunnel floor without drawing attention.

Although it went against every last fiber of his being, Raphael took a deep breath to prepare himself, then did what any _normal _turtle would do under the current circumstances. He took off, as fast as his genetic code and stubby limbs would allow, in the opposite direction from the battle.

As the turtles had hoped, the ninja in charge of tracking Raphael had hung back from the fight. He had positioned himself around a corner several meters away. Fifteen other ninja accompanied him, just in case one of the hated mutant turtles had headed their way. While the soldiers were expendable as far as the Shredder was concerned, the tracking mechanism was deemed worthy of the extra protection.

The ninja holding the device was wishing in vain that Chaplin had added some sort of video game feature on it for these less engaging moments. Suddenly, he noticed the tiny blip of otherworldly essence, or whatever the red-headed scientist had called it, slowly but steadily getting closer. He nudged one of his companions.

"Check it out, little turtle coming this way. Guess he couldn't hack the fighting anymore. Get that thing open, and I'll grab him." They waited impatiently until they just barely made out the glint of the tiny carapace rounding the corner.

Not the least bit taken by surprise, Raphael mewled in artificial alarm as he was scooped up and stuffed immediately into a small wire cage, barely bigger than his body.

He smirked inwardly, resorting to a sort of bitter humor to help keep himself calm while in this predicament. _Heh, looks like these bozos learn from some of their mistakes, anyway. Too bad I don't _want_ to escape this time._

Well, maybe _don't want_ wasn't exactly the right phrasing. No ulterior motive could overshadow the fact that he absolutely despised being put in a cage.

The next thing he knew, he was being carried off down the side tunnel, out of sight and away from his family. His captors had electronically signaled to Karai that he was in their hands, and were now heading for a designated meeting point.

With one sweeping hand motion from Karai, the Foot ninja that had been engaged in a vicious battle with the three remaining turtles and their sensei ceased abruptly. They turned, shot off in the direction of their companions, and disappeared into the shadows.

Karai spared one last haughty glance at Leonardo, as if to ensure him that there would be another time.

The turtles made a half-hearted effort in chase, sprinting down the tunnel past the corner for just a moment, but pulled up short when it was clear their targets had gained a substantial enough lead. All three teenagers stood for a moment to catch their breaths, greedily pulling in oxygen. Their intentions had indeed been carried out. Raphael was now with an unsuspecting Karai, and his brothers had fought with great effort. There had been no need to pretend during the battle; so numerous had their enemies been. Now, they only had to wait, and pray that their homing device remained intact until that night.

Master Splinter approached silently and stared into the blackness of the distant tunnels, his brows knitted ever so slightly with concern.

Michelangelo frowned, sadness in his blue eyes as he stood up straight, dusting off his hands. _Bye for now, Raphie. Don't worry, bro – we'll see you again real soon, ok? _Relinquishing Raphael had probably been the hardest on him. He had felt an inexplicable closeness to his tiny brother ever since he'd discovered him less than eight hours ago.

Leo and Donnie, however, were each letting their own brands of guilt fester. Allowing their brother to fall into the hands of the enemy did not sit well with any of them.

The small family was once again less one, only no longer did they live in blissful ignorance about it. The three turtles and the rat gathered close, and clapped their arms around each others' shoulders for reassurance. Their enemies were no longer after them for the time being, yet none of them would be getting much rest until they were once again whole.

*******************

Sunrise was already well under way. Very soon, the score of black-clad ninja tearing along the rooftops would be visible to those going about their weekend routines. Very soon, if he had not already, a young man would awaken and discover a missing pet while he was pouring his coffee.

Karai could only hope they were not too late. She silently thanked the gods that it was Saturday, so that they still had a chance of restoring Raphael unnoticed.

Karai brought the cage up to her face and stared right into Raphael's eyes. He glared back, unblinking. "Bite through _that_, why don't you," she hissed.

Suddenly she moved the cage so that her prisoner's head was near her lips. "I know you can understand me, Raphael," she whispered so that none around her could hear. "Everyone else may deny it, but I know you're in there. When we extract what we need from you and the Shredder has no more use for you, I'm going to make you suffer for the trouble you have caused me. Before I'm through with you, Raphael, you're going to wish more than anything in the world that you could open your mouth and beg me to let you die."

Despite his bristling exterior and his burning desire to rake the smug look from Karai's face with his claws, Raphael felt a small twinge of fear from her words. For what could he do to stop her, by himself?

Oh, there was a time and a place in which he could have fought back, and succeeded, he knew. While watching his brothers take down scores of ninja fighters with their own weapons, while watching them exercise great skill as martial artists, observing their fierce dedication to teamwork, he remembered. He could almost feel the weight of the sai, expertly spinning in his flexible humanoid fingers, the extension of his muscular arm as he would set one free with deadly accuracy. But he had nothing of the sort at his disposal in this dreadful existence. It was all up to his brothers now.

_Oh, boy. Guys, I sure hope you can come through for me. God, I hate to admit this, but I can't get outta this alone. Whatever I did to isolate myself before, it has to be the biggest mistake I've ever made. I need you – please, don't give up on me now._

Right at that moment, he missed his brothers more than anything in the world.

*******************

Late that morning, four exhausted mutant ninjas stumbled through the main door of their Lair. They cleaned themselves up and went in turn to Donatello's makeshift infirmary to have various wounds and strained muscles tended. Then, one by one, they collapsed in their own beds.

Leonardo was initially unwilling to sleep. Afraid to let his guard down after the Foot had been so close to his home, he set up a vigil on the couch in the main room. Master Splinter came in and gently placed a gnarled hand on Leo's shoulder, reminding him that Donatello's early warning system had already proven itself, and that they all needed their rest for that evening.

"My son, I will spend some time now meditating on the matters at hand. Perhaps I will even be able to contact your brother's spirit, for it is strong, even in this world that is not his own. At any rate, the process will rejuvenate me. It will do us much good if you will try to sleep, and rejuvenate yourself as well."

"Hai, Sensei, you are right." Reluctantly the blue-banded turtle made his way into his bedroom. Despite his misgivings, fatigue took over and he was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

*******************

By the time Raphael landed in the sand and got his bearings, the Foot ninja who'd roughly deposited him into the aquarium was gone, the picture window clicking shut.

_I gotta admit, that was pretty swift. For a buncha' morons, they do a half-decent job with that ninja disappearing act._

Raphael hadn't thought about it before in all the excitement of his initial capture, but if the knowledge about this top-secret species wipeout juice was so precious, why didn't the professor install some kind of alarm system in his apartment? It was, after all, the Big Apple. Though he supposed it was the young man's father that had reasons for such concern; really the son didn't know what he was about to get into yet.

_Heh, wait 'til my bros lay it out for ya. _

Raphael was kept from further thoughts of his brothers by the unexpected sounds of a shuffling motion. Delilah's form appeared from around the sunning rock in the aquarium as she crawled over until she was inches away from her roommate. She momentarily stopped and stared at him.

_What's that look for, lady? Ya miss me? Well, maybe I went off to find someone a little more… y'know, conversational. _

The female turtle moved further forward until her head was up against Raphael's carapace, off-center as though he were not the object of her attention, but was rather blocking her path. He shook his head, half-smiling at Delilah's antics, when he suddenly felt a searing pain course through his body, head to tail. This sensation continued unrelenting as new waves of fiery pain moved up his limbs from his toes.

Delilah scooted back, alarmed as her newly-returned companion began thrashing wildly around, making small wailing sounds of great distress.

_Pain. Indescribable pain, wracking his entire body in bursts. At its peak, it was the only thing around which he could wrap his mind. When it settled, he began to register other sensations. Cold, wet all around. Cold, dry air flowing into his lungs. He could see nothing but a blur. He could hear only silence. He could not move his arms or legs, nor could he lift his head. He could panic, and did so readily. Struggling, unable to move, to escape the torturous waves of pain. Someone was there, someone… he could sense their malicious intent behind his suffering, he could…_

Hyperventilating, Raphael came to himself and realized with exasperation that he'd managed to flail right onto his shell. Lifting his head, he watched as Delilah came closer, waving her beak around the upper part of his plastron, as if to smell him.

"Well, good morning, you two! I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?" The smiling young man approached the glass cage, padding silently in his bedroom slippers. Raphael hadn't heard him get up.

_Oh, Geez. This is freakin' mortifying. Sorry, bud, but I got way too much other serious stuff goin' on to even think about girls. 'Sides, she ain't exactly my type. _

Raphael was lifted and replaced on his feet. The young professor shuffled into the kitchen and began making coffee. Soon, its sweet aroma filled the apartment and followed the human over to the couch, where he clicked on the morning news.

Raphael could almost have welcomed the familiar, relatively comfortable morning routines. However, his thoughts were only of his brothers and of the disturbing episodes that he had now endured twice. His attention was grabbed momentarily by the current story on the television.

"still no new leads on the organization behind the mysterious theft at Innovolutions Labs two weeks ago. Authorities are reporting that…"

Before he could catch any more, the young man clicked off the television.

_Why does he keep _doing _that, right in the middle? These New Yorkers, I tell ya. No patience._

Talking to the turtles, but more to himself, the professor headed to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast. "That reminds me, I've gotta call Dad. Make sure he's still good to come over tonight so we can talk about that pesticide. He's worried sick, though I'm not sure what we can do now."

As his "owner" ducked his head into the refrigerator, Raphael nodded once, in satisfaction.

_So, this is it. It all comes down to tonight. _

He clambered slowly up to the warming rock and settled down, one of his rare moments in which he behaved as an ordinary turtle. Instincts were instincts to some degree, and besides, he'd need the energy later. Things were about to get interesting again very soon.

_Bring it on._

*******************

Hours later they sat, perched on the fire escape, staring through a picture window to a small glass aquarium. The cage contained two turtles. One was nosing through a pile of greens in the far corner, and the other was standing on the edge nearest to the observers in the window. The second turtle had raised one of his arms and was making what appeared to be a waving motion.

Mikey returned the greeting with a mounting excitement. "Yep, that's our Raphie all right!"

Donatello's tracking device had worked like a charm.

Leonardo's jaw was set, his face stone-like. He wasted no time in studying the window and ledge. When he spoke, his tone invited no humor. "Do you think this place is rigged? Donnie?"

Splinter rested his hand gently on Leonardo's arm and interjected. "No, my son. Raphael has told me that since the break-in, his professor's father has become quite paranoid about his knowledge and those who might try to steal it. The Shredder felt that any traditional methods of extracting information, such as electronic surveillance equipment, would be detected. I believe we are safe to enter."

He looked like he wanted to go on, but stopped. However, his face was no mystery to his youngest son.

Mikey was always one to speak his mind. "Master Splinter, what is it? You look like something's really eating you right about now." The orange-bandeezd turtle leaned in to regard his sensei more closely.

Splinter tilted his head at Mikey, slightly amused. "Eating me? I don't know about that, but there is something weighing heavily on my mind, something about Raphael."

He now had the complete attention of all three turtles, but shook his head in response to their inquisitive stares.

"Now is not the time, my eager young ninjas. Let us rejoin your brother and make the young professor's acquaintance, before his father arrives."

The three boys looked surprised over this last statement.

"My sons, I was able to reach Raphael's spirit while he was sleeping earlier today. It has told me a great many things, about how he came to be here, about the lack of security at the apartment, and about the young man meeting with his father tonight. I even had a glimpse of what is happening to Raphael in his own world, something I think even he doesn't realize, and it is most disturbing."

He paused, noting the alarmed expressions on the three turtles' faces. "I see the questions burning in your eyes, but what I have learned from Raphael gives us all the more reason for urgency. I will explain all in time."

At a nod from Leonardo, the three turtles silently pushed the window up, and the family slid one by one into the living room.

Michelangelo was the first to rush over to Raphael on the rock and was just about to pick him up, when the professor suddenly materialized in the doorframe from his hallway, a cup of coffee in hand.

Everyone froze. For a few lengthy seconds, not a sound could be heard except for the ticking of the mantle clock. It seemed that no one even breathed.

The professor's skin turned a particularly pale shade as his eyes darted rapidly back and forth over each mutant turtle. He had just enough time to lay his coffee on a sofa table, before collapsing into a non-responsive heap on the ground.

Mikey looked at each of his brothers in turn, grinning from ear to ear.

"I think that went well, don't you?"

*******************

_A/N: So there you have Chapter 8. I have only this to say about the next chapter: Watch out ,it's going to be a ride! Thanks to all of you; it's a lot of fun to write for you and I really appreciate all the encouragement._


	9. Believing the Improbable

_A/N: I just wanted to say that for those who might still be reading, I am really sorry for the enormous delay in creating/posting this chapter. I was out of the country for several weeks and have been out of my routine for a long time. I will make every effort to update more regularly from this point, though the only promise I can make is that I will complete this story. Thanks so much for your undeserved patience, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. From now on we will be venturing between two dimensions, but I will make every attempt to be clear as things start coming together. Please let me know if you find this too hard to follow and I will accommodate._

*******************

The scrawny rat scurried over wiring and around various rough protrusions in the sheet rock, toward a light source that he hoped was a crack in the building's wall. Such interruptions in the structure plagued even the finest of New York City's skyscrapers, and the underground levels of the lavish Saki headquarters were no exception.

To his delight, the intrepid rodent was able to squeeze through the crack into an interior that held the usual promise of sustenance. Ever cautious, the rat bobbed his head around, nose in the air, sniffing.

The room was immense, though it appeared cluttered by various pieces of electronic equipment that loomed in from the walls.

The hum of heavy machinery blended with the sound of hushed voices coming from a small group of people gathered against the east wall, their faces awash with a faint glow.

The object of their interest was a large box that lay upon a stainless steel table, illuminated by fluorescent bulbs that cast a soft light on its occupant.

The rat's first objective was to get as far away from the group as possible, having had his share of near-death experiences whenever he came within close proximity of humans. However, he remained riveted in place for a moment, fascinated by the creature within the eerily illuminated container. Though its body was barely more than silhouetted, and covered with various wires, he could make out the rough edge of a shell upon its back, and four muscular human-like limbs. This observation sparked a memory in his tiny rodent mind. He had seen turtle-creatures such as this one before, during his foraging expeditions in the sewers.

During his brief pause, the rat was suddenly startled as one of the people surrounding the enclosure threw a switch on the wall, causing an array of brilliant sparks to course through a transparent fluid that filled in the box. The intense current caused the turtle-creature's body to convulse violently, though it did not make a sound. It lasted for more than a minute, then once again the creature became still.

Having frozen on the spot, the horrified rodent regained his bearings and recoiled in revulsion. Everything was wrong here. He could detect pain, fear, and an evil so potent he felt urged to abandon his mission, and seek food elsewhere. He backed away and squeezed once again through the fissure in the wall. He could deal with the pangs in his stomach for a while longer; some places were best left alone.

*******************

Karai stared at the unmoving turtle's body. His eyes were closed, his features inscrutable underneath the oxygen mask that supplied him while he was submerged in fluid. The only signs that he lived were the slow and steady rise and fall of his plastron and the blip of his heart rate from the monitor above his enclosure which had returned to normal after the shocks were discontinued. A triumph of Utrom technology that had been stolen and warped for Shredder's malicious purposes, the gel acted as both a conductor of electricity and a source of nutrients and healing components for its comatose occupant.

Karai whirled on the man standing next to her, recording vital signs on an electronic hand-held chart. Eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, she addressed him.

"Dr. Chaplin, explain to me one more time why this turtle has not joined us back in this world. Need I remind you of the confidence with which you stated that we could re-awaken him at any moment by inflicting a powerful enough stimulus on his body? Perhaps I missed something there, some _vital_ detail that could prove the cause of your current lack of control of this situation."

Dr. Chaplin began fidgeting nervously under Karai's piercing glare. "Mis-mistress Karai," he stammered, "I simply don't know why this is happening. We've run enough current through him to kill ten ordinary men. If we overdo it and fry his mind, then everything will be—"

She cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand. "You heard Master Shredder yourself, remember? He stated that the most vital part of this experiment lay in our ability to retrieve his mind from the body of the pet turtle at any time. He gave us this morning as our deadline, and here we are. By now, either he mentally contains the necessary information for us to download, or the mission was a failure. Whatever the case, we need him to pull out. _NOW._"

Before Karai could continue, the booming voice of the Shredder rang out over the building's intercom system. "Karai, I must see you in my chambers immediately. Tell Dr. Chaplin to stop the shock treatments for the moment."

"Yes, Father," Karai responded before shooting a seething glare towards the young scientist. "This conversation is not over, Dr. Chaplin." She looked down at the sleeping form, with no change in her expression. "You are far from winning, Raphael. When you finally do awaken, and I can assure you that will happen, you will wish that we'd killed you in your sleep."

*******************

Karai appeared before Oroku Saki in his chambers and gave him the characteristic slight incline of her head; nothing more, nothing less.

He let it pass, as she knew he would, and got right to the point. "We must stop all attempts to awaken Raphael for the time being."

Karai's typically unreadable brow morphed into lines of confusion. "But why? I thought you'd said that…"

"Yes, daughter, but I was finally able to make contact with my alternate in the spiritual plane. The alternate that dwells in the realm to which we've sent the turtle's mind. I had thought all would be lost if we did not retrieve the information by now, but it seems we have perhaps been hasty. According to the Oroku Saki of that world, Raphael has been restored to his owner, and he suspects the information about the stolen formula will be revealed in front of the turtle within the next twenty-four hours.

"Whether my alternate can supply the information to me through the spiritual plane, or we have to download it from Raphael's mind here upon his forced awakening, we will have it. I do not foresee a need for a third option, but if something goes wrong we can simply… remove the life-sustaining support, and find another way to activate the Darwin's curse and deliver it to the remaining turtles. As both I and my alternate have managed to get our hands on the formula in each of our worlds, we will soon have the capabilities for supreme rule in both dimensions. Whatever takes place, victory is at hand, and there is no opportunity for failure."

Karai gave another nod as she went to relay the latest instructions to Dr. Chaplin, and slipped from the room. Sighing, she wished she could share in her adoptive father's confidence, but his complete lack of acknowledgement of any possibility of failure left her with misgivings. Saki, in his arrogance, always refused to see that nothing was ever as simple as it seemed when the turtles were involved.

*******************

The young professor awoke to find that he was the object of a little too much attention. Reaching groggily back to the last thing he'd seen before collapsing to the floor, he was barely able to prepare himself for the shock a second time. All at once he registered that he was sitting on the soft microfiber of his couch, that a newly warmed cup of coffee was being gently placed in his grasp, and that a pair of concerned blue eyes were staring at him from a masked half-reptilian and half-human face. The latter almost sent him over the edge again, but before he could react, the mutated turtle began speaking excitedly.

"Hey dude, you're back! Don't worry about fainting, we get that a lot. But, if you sit still long enough without doing it again, we can explain. My bros and I promise you that we aren't aliens, but we do come in peace."

The young man's eyes darted around the room to note that two more turtle-men were also gazing at him, but giving him a bit more distance than the one who'd spoken. The turtle wearing a purple mask was gently holding his male pet turtle, Sampson. Somehow, he couldn't find it within himself to be surprised that the small turtle was involved with these… whatever they were.

"I think I heard about you guys on the news," he managed weakly. It was the only thing he could think to say for the moment.

The blue-masked turtle stepped forward, taking control of the situation. "I'm sorry we startled you, but there isn't much time to dwell on that. My name is Leonardo, and these are my brothers, Donatello and Michelangelo." He nodded to each turtle respectively as he named them. "I know what I have to say next may be hard for you to swallow, but please hear me out.

"The turtle you've known as a pet for years is actually our fourth brother, Raphael. Once, for a very short period of time, you owned us all. One day when you were a boy, a day you may remember, you were carrying us home in a glass bowl when an accident caused you to drop us. You managed to save Raphael, but the rest of us were lost in the sewers. Not long after that, we came into contact with a mutagenic substance, which you later found and modified before turning it over to your father. Our exposure caused us to go through a series of changes in which we became more like humans, and it also…"

"It also permanently altered me." The young man jumped, splashing his coffee, at the sight of a large humanoid rat emerging from behind the sofa, wearing a kimono and carrying some type of walking stick.

"A giant mutant rat too? What the…"

"Ah, yes. Please let me introduce our Teacher and adoptive father, Master Splinter."

The man regained his composure enough to ask, "Teacher? Teacher of what?"

"Master Splinter has taught us in the art of ninjutsu. I… I hadn't wanted to throw quite so much on you at once." Leo looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Yeah," the professor replied wryly, "I think you eased me into it all very well. Three mutant ninja turtle brothers with a mutant rat dad, all in five minutes or less. Just another typical New York day, really."

This response seemed to delight Michelangelo, whose smile lit up the room. "Oh, a wiseguy, eh? Dude, you're alright!"

Raphael began wriggling impatiently in Donatello's grasp, diverting Don's attention to the little turtle. "Uh, Leo… I think we'd better keep moving on with the story."

"Right. So, anyway, Professor, in the interest of time I must continue. There's no need for you to fear us, or our martial arts expertise. We use our abilities only to fight the forces of evil, especially one man in particular who represents all the darkness that could ever be brought into this world. That man, whom you may know as Oroku Saki, a supposedly renowned benefactor among your kind, is currently in possession of the formula stolen from your father's workplace. The formula nicknamed 'Darwin's Curse.'"

Master Splinter, seeing doubt begin to settle into the young man's face, stepped in to continue. "My son, whatever deceit and lies you may have been fed about him, Oroku Saki will stop at nothing to control this entire planet. We have reason to believe he has the most malevolent of intentions for this formula, and could potentially use it to wipe out the human race."

The professor shook his head in disbelief. "But how…"

It was Donatello's turn to speak up. "You see, Saki cannot utilize the formula right now because he doesn't have access to the top-secret conditions under which it can be activated. Your father designed it to be dependent upon those conditions as a protective measure, which is great, but Saki will go to any means to extract that information so he can activate the substance himself. And I do mean _any_ means. In fact, he had temporarily stolen Raphael from your apartment and implanted a recording device under his carapace, so that if and when your father revealed information about the Darwin's Curse to you, he'd have access. He figured he'd use the most stealthy methods his scientists could dream up, since your father guards the secret so closely."

Donatello stopped when he noticed the young man's eyes were narrowed in suspicion. "So, Donatello, is it? I can buy your existence and all, but beyond that I'm not so sure. Someone swiped my turtle, and put him back before I noticed? They placed a recording device on him to steal information about activating that stolen pesticide? They want to use it to, dare I say it, control the world? Surely you can see why that all seems a little far-fetched! I think it would really help me out if you could explain to me just how you and your mutant family came to 'know' all this."

Michelangelo quickly piped up, with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Oh, that's _easy._ Raphael told us."

The professor darted a glance at his pet, his face the picture of skepticism, before resting his eyes back onto the orange-banded turtle next to him. "Raphael told you."

Donatello and his brothers all nodded, while the aged rat simply studied the young man's face. The purple-banded turtle took the lead once more. "I know this is all a bit overwhelming, even inconceivable, but I can promise you we are telling you the truth. You see, there is another world, an alternate dimension if you will, in which all four of us were mutated – including Raphael. Somehow, Raphael's mind was pulled from that dimension and put into the body of the turtle you've known for the last several years as your pet. He's the same turtle either way, it's just that in this world, he never mutated. Don't ask me how this happened, but Oroku Saki probably had something to do with that too."

The young man looked very doubtful. "I mean, it just seems ridiculous, if you'll pardon my saying. All he's ever done is crawl around and eat lettuce, pretty average stuff if you ask me."

At this, Raphael began wriggling violently again, desperate to prove himself. He was relieved when Donatello, who could barely keep hold of him, got the message. "Look, Professor. I'm going to put Raphael down on your lap. I think he can show you much better than we can tell you." Donatello gently lowered his charge, who had become still once more, onto the man's knee.

Michelangelo nodded insistently. "Seriously, bud, he's in there. Go on and ask him something. But make sure the answer's yes or no. We haven't, like, trained him to speak yet."

The young man studied Raphael, who was trying very hard to glare menacingly at his youngest brother. Feeling utterly foolish, he said, "Ok, here goes nothing. Sooo… Raphael, did I call you Sampson before?"

Raphael nodded his head distinctly, three times, while staring solemnly up at the human.

"Ooookay, that was sort-of weird. Well, then, was the other turtle in your aquarium also male?"

A slow shake of the head, also three times.

"Was she named Delilah?"

Another nod.

The young man looked up, his eyes wide, sparing a glance at each of the mutants in turn. His eyes rested upon Master Splinter's kindly features. "I..I, I don't know what to say! I mean, I've seen some crazy stuff before, but this is… this is… wow. I really am at a loss for words. I guess all I can say is… I believe you.

"By the way, I guess I've been rude in not introducing myself. I've never met anyone like you before, that's for sure. Doesn't excuse bad manners though – my name is Dr. Mark Bronson. You can call me Mark."

The shared relief in the room was almost tangible.

Master Splinter stepped forward, sharp eyes sparkling. "We are so pleased to hear that you accept what we have brought to you. However, now we must make haste. Raphael has told us that your father is coming tonight to discuss this Darwin formula with you. We must all work together, and we must destroy it and all evidence of its existence, my son."

His mind made up, Mark nodded resolutely. "Right, so when Dad comes, and after we revive him, we'll do exactly as you're suggesting. As much good as the stuff might do for our society, it's got too much terrible potential in the wrong hands. We'd already about made up our minds to get rid of it, as soon as we'd heard it was stolen. Now, Dad knows a lot more about it than I do, but I think there's someone else who can help as well. Do you mind if I call my new girlfriend? She's really savvy with the biomolecular side of things, a lot more so than I am. Plus she was an assistant to some guy who was big into developing methods for pest control at her last job. I'm sure she'd be happy to lend a hand.

Raphael was caught off-guard. He hadn't known about the professor having any dates, much less a girlfriend; she hadn't yet been to the apartment as far as he was aware. Still, now was as good a time as any for a first visit, he supposed. He joined with the rest of his family in nodding their approval. Knowing the Shredder, and the lengths to which he would go to achieve his ends, they might need all the help they could get.

No one noticed that the young man's hand was trembling slightly from the day's surprises, as he picked up the receiver and dialed the number for his new girlfriend. She picked up on the second ring.

"April? Hey, it's Mark. Listen, are you busy tonight?"

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	10. Best Laid Plans

_Hi everyone, thanks so much for reading, and once again for your patience. Here's another chapter, I really appreciate all the feedback so far, and hope you enjoy this one. BTW, Raphael's memories of his other life are still not all intact, just because he's put some pieces together. Especially not those of things and people that aren't surrounding the events leading up to his being sent to the alternate universe. Just wanted to clarify. _

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Throughout the remainder of the afternoon, Mark began poring through heavily encrypted electronic files with Donatello, becoming more impressed with the turtle's intellect by the minute. Never one to discard information, he had scanned hard copies of the data he'd recorded when unwittingly creating the deadly formula. The two technically inclined individuals were now gleaning the data for clues that might help them to irreversibly destroy the substance and all traces of its creation, though they anxiously awaited the arrival of the young man's father. He would be able to supply the vast majority of the answers they sought.

Leonardo and Master Splinter planned out their strategy for delaying the Shredder's forces when they came for Raphael, to ensure time for both the destruction of "Darwin's curse" and a safe getaway for all involved.

Michelangelo passed the time by sampling from Mark's DVD collection, trying to stay out of his brothers' way.

For Raphael, there wasn't much to do but wait. He plodded sullenly around the apartment wishing he could help his brothers in some way, finally settling down in a sunlit spot on the floor near the couch where Mikey was splayed out. After a few minutes, he dozed off, allowing his subconscious to take over.

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_The lair was still as a windless night; all of its occupants were sound asleep… save one. There had been no outburst that day, no fight. No reason to suspect that Raphael would steal out in the middle of the wee hours of that particular morning, which was exactly what he was doing. Using stealth that only years of training could produce, the red-masked ninja emerged from the sewers and made his way through the shadows to the rooftops. _

_Raphael took a rare moment to calm himself and gather his thoughts. He was full of emotional turmoil due to the discord with the rest of his family. Still, he'd struck out alone many times in the past and emerged relatively unscathed. Well… with no real lasting damage. Shaking off his unease, he concentrated on the task at hand._

_He reached the rooftop next to the Saki building in less than twenty minutes. Using a pair of night-vision infrared goggles, he made out about thirty figures guarding the exterior of the enemy's skyscraper from its precipice. Shrugging off a longing feeling for his techno-savvy brother, he shifted through the contents of his rucksack and found the powerful suction cups that allowed the turtles to maneuver around, insect-like, on vertical surfaces. Affixing the pads to his hands and knees, he launched himself from the adjacent roof of a shorter building. He remained quietly in place on the wall for a few moments, barely breathing. Satisfied that he had not been detected, he made his way silently down to the eighteenth floor, which, according to Donatello's prior reconnaissance, housed Dr. Chaplin's main laboratory. _

_Raphael approached the nearest window on the darkest side of the building. Using a compass-like device he'd stolen from Donatello's lab, he made a circular cut in the window and silently removed the glass. Clutching a tiny bottle in his three-fingered hand, he reached through the newly-made hole and sprayed a fine mist around the inside of the window frame. The mist faintly illuminated a thin laser line, running from one side of the frame to the other at the bottom._

Motion sensors, _Raphael thought to himself. Smiling humorlessly, he pulled out two very small mirrors from his bag and lowered them ever-so-gently into the laser's path so that they were perpendicular to the light. Each mirrored surface faced an opposite side of the beam. Once simultaneous contact with the beam was made, Raphael slowly moved each mirror outward until the beam was contained at its source on each side of the frame. Pleased with his work, he reached in through the circular hole and flipped the lock on the latch, raised the window, and eased himself into the room without a sound. _

_While pausing to listen for any signs of life, he gave himself a split-second to muse on the fact that Donatello would never imagine that he, Raphael, had actually paid attention to the obsessive yet inventive tinkering of his brilliant younger brother from time to time. _

_After a moment, Raphael was satisfied that he was indeed undetected. He made his way through the lab using a tiny LED flashlight as his guide. He had no idea where information about the formula would be hidden, or in what form it would appear, so he began rifling through Dr. Chaplin's notes on a workbench in the far corner of the room. He sucked in an excited breath when he reached the page that contained specific information about the properties of his target._

_He had just started an attempt at deciphering Chaplin's messy scrawl when he heard a faint click behind him. Turning very slowly, he found himself face-to-face with Karai. Behind her, ten Food ninja were poised, tensely awaiting orders. His heart sinking, he mentally berated himself for missing their entry into the room._

"_I have to hand it to you, Raphael. As you are little more than the muscle of your family, I would never have figured you'd have the patience or the intelligence to get this far by yourself. Congratulations, you have earned the privilege of helping us to utilize the very formula for which you are no doubt searching."_

"_You and I both know, Karai, that I would NEVER do anythin' ta help you, no matter what th' price."_

_The black-clad woman raised a well-manicured eyebrow. "You're right Raphael. You and I both know that you would never do so… willingly." These words were accompanied by a loud shot, which echoed momentarily in the high-ceilinged laboratory. Raphael stared down to find an empty syringe protruding from the soft skin above his collarbone. _Oh, shell. This is so not how I planned things…

_Karai smiled in satisfaction. _"_Foot ninja, contain him!" As the black-clad soldiers surged forth, Raphael ripped his sai from their positions in his belt, and began lashing out for all he was worth. He kept up a worthy fight for a few minutes, had even managed to maneuver his way around towards the still-open window, felt the breeze with which freedom beckoned on the back of his neck. However, all too quickly his vision began to blur and his beloved weapons felt like leaden weights. One of the foot ninja managed to loop a cord around Raphael's neck and, leaping onto his back, pulled it taut. Releasing a strangled bellow of indignant rage, he thrashed wildly about, but the drugged turtle no longer had the strength to dislodge his assailant. Black spots swam before his eyes, and he collapsed mightily on the laboratory floor, knowing no more. _

*******************

The sound of the apartment's doorbell startled Raphael out of his troubled sleep. His mind raced as Mark rounded the corner and headed for the door.

_Wait, what was _that_ all about? What's happening to my body? Is that the last thing that I remember, the last thing I was aware of before, before…_

_Oh, SHELL. THEY sent me here. Karai, and the Shredder. My world has them too, and they must know, they must want the same information. They must be somehow… _waitin'_ for me to bring it back to them, from this place. But how? This alternate world's Shredder seemed certain that I was just a regular turtle. _

Something about that last thought lingered for a moment in Raphael's mind. It whispered to him with an undertone of urgency, as though he'd stumbled onto something critical. When nothing came to him immediately, he irritably shrugged the pestering thought away.

For now, Raphael's mind was more preoccupied with his epiphany. Finally, he was beginning to understand the full scope of what was at stake here. He shuddered involuntarily. Not only were the Shredder's plans at risk of annihilating this alternate world, but his own universe as well. And he was right in the middle of it.

None of his brothers back at home had understood, so great was their frustration with his ever-typical rash behavior. Looking at the mess he was in now, he was tempted to admit that they were right more often than not. However, he was now the only one from his own world, besides the Shredder and perhaps Karai, who was familiar with the Darwin's Curse and all its capabilities. It was because he was brought here that he could reach such understanding, but it also meant he had no way to warn his brothers, no way to pass this information along.

Suddenly, Raphael was hit with a shock-wave of homesickness that was so powerful, it dizzied him. _C'mon, guy, get hold of yourself._

The first thing he saw when the vertigo passed was that a pretty redhead, who looked vaguely familiar to Raphael, was now standing in the apartment, speaking with Mark. The second thing he noticed was that there was absolutely no trace of his brothers. He would have snorted if it were possible. _Same turtles, different universe. Ain't it nice that some things never change._

Mark was offering his guest an assortment of beverages, and all-but-insisting that she have a seat on the couch.

He disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, and returned with a glass of iced tea. The cubes clinked musically as he set it down before her, and settled next to her on the sofa. "I'll give you the nickel tour later, if you like. I'm sure you'd like to meet the Turtles." She glanced over at the terrarium, but bore a puzzled expression when she returned her gaze to Mark's face. He seemed particularly tense under the circumstances. True, she had only known him a short time, but they'd had a number of in-depth discussions and confided in one another. Besides, April was no fool.

Her sparkling green eyes traveled back and forth between his, searching. "Mark, is everything ok? I can't help but notice, you seem a little off today. On the phone, and now."

He shook his head, faintly smiling in resignation. "Wow, I guess I'm caught red-handed. " He ran a hand through his hair, a habit when distracted that he'd picked up from his father. "April, I know we haven't been together very long, and I hope I don't scare you off with any of this, but I called you over to see if you could help me. I've found myself in the middle of, frankly, something pretty incredible. I mean the not-so-good kind of incredible. And believe me when I tell you that all of this is going to sound crazy to you. I wouldn't blame you if you would just want to leave. But I'm hoping that you'll hear me out, and maybe even be able to help me to come up with some answers for this… problem I'm facing."

April nodded slowly, her expression a blank slate. "Ooooh-kay, I guess the best thing is to try me, then."

Mark laughed nervously, and continued. "Ok. I haven't told you this before, but one day when I was a pretty young kid, I'd just come out of the pet shop with…"

He didn't have a chance to finish his sentence, before Michelangelo came bounding into the room, landing squarely in front of the astonished couple.

"Sheesh, chemical boy, don't you think we oughta get the hard part over with first? Then it's all downhill from there!"

There was a pause, for a fraction of a second, then April screamed. Before she'd finished, Mikey began to scream. After a moment, there was silence. April stared wildly around the room, gaze swinging from the five-foot-tall turtle-man wearing an orange mask onto a large rat wearing a robe and standing upright, and a second turtle-man, taller, wearing blue. The rat and the blue turtle, despite the obvious differences, almost looked like twins. Both had their feet planted in a wide base. Both were crossing their arms. Both were aiming identical, withering glares towards the turtle who had first appeared. Her senses heightened by adrenaline, April thought she saw the head of yet a _third_ giant turtle, this one wearing a purple mask, peering shyly out from around the corner of the wall.

April felt the periphery of her vision lose focus. She thought that she was going to pass out, but there was Mark with his arm around her shoulder, lightly squeezing her and telling her that everything was ok. That it was the rule and not the exception to have three giant, muscle-bound talking turtle-creatures and an enormous rat in one's apartment.

For a second, April considered getting up and leaving. Just running out of the apartment, and forgetting that this had ever happened. Something in Mark's earnest expression stopped her. Sincerity was so plainly written on his features that she relaxed, ever so slightly, just enough to stammer something about a dream. Mark gently squeezed her hands and explained about the mutants, getting to the point that they were allies against a powerful enemy as quickly as he could.

April, still a bit shaky, sat up straighter and began asking her own questions, once her voice had steadied. At one point, Mikey elbowed Mark in the ribs, waggling his eyebrows. "Dude, she's a keeper. Didn't even faint." He grinned disarmingly at April, who couldn't help but laugh.

Between Mark, Donatello and Master Splinter, the circumstances surrounding the destruction of the pesticide were gradually explained. Michelangelo piped up again to enlighten the newcomer about his discovery of Raphael. As he spoke, he lifted his tiny hotheaded brother to the sofa so he would feel more involved. Ever the comedian, Mikey even managed to sneak in a couple of wisecracks about his sibling performing tricks for lima beans, his ninja reflexes saving his fingers from the wrath of the cranky turtle's beak.

When Dr. Bronson arrived, his reaction was the most surprising of all. The turtles emerged from hiding much more cautiously this time after Michelangelo had been the recipient of a stern lecture from two fronts. Looking at the assortment of creatures before him, the older gentleman nodded politely, and asked them if they knew anything about the mutagenic substance they must have surely contacted.

After introductions and another briefing, Dr. Bronson, April, Mark and Donatello buried their heads together, poring through notes, plans and chemical formulas associated with the "Darwin's Curse." At first, they could be heard chattering excitedly about the enormous potential of the powerful pesticide. To Raphael's relief, however, the conversation became gradually more somber as they discussed its inevitable fate. All were in agreement about that which must be done. Discovery of the necessary conditions for safely disposing of the substance without activating it, followed by complete destruction of all recorded information pertaining to the toxin.

Leonardo kept trying and failing to get Michelangelo to focus while the blue-masked turtle and his Master covered their exit strategy. Dr. Bronson would cover destruction of all the necessary records at Innovolutions Labs, but he would probably have to leave the country after committing that which would be seen as a serious criminal offense. The Turtles would help to cover his escape, along with obtaining every last drop of the pesticide for inactivated release. However, the keystone of the entire operation involved Raphael somehow being transported back to his world, for the Shredder would otherwise be able to trace him to the four corners of theirs. There would be no escape, in that case. They needed Donatello's input on this problem, yet Leonardo and Master Splinter would not interrupt him from his other obligations. Raphael couldn't help but smirk - the intellectual turtle was listening raptly to the elder Dr. Bronson, with something like adoration. Raphael looked again at Leo, waiting serenely, as if seeing him for the first time. He would never, ever admit it, but he had to hand it to the leader for his patience with his brothers. _Guess it's been made all the easier growing up in this place with me outta th' picture, not getting in his way, not challenging his every move._

Suddenly, Donatello leapt from the sofa. He and Dr. Bronson grabbed each others' arms, elated. The purple-clad turtle began speaking , in a relatively slow and mellow tone as always, despite his excitement. "That's it! It's so simple, how could I not have seen it before? The chemical is stored at room temperature in a liquid state, right? Then, as you've said, it has to be frozen to achieve its delayed-onset lethal effect. Otherwise, the subject's DNA would be altered, but not lethally so. Then, if it's returned to a liquid state it loses that property once more, which is why Oroku Saki hasn't been successful in administering it. He's missing the point! It has to be vaporized for administration purposes, which would require heating it to a temperature of… what did you say you used in those controlled studies, Dr. Bronson? Yes, that's it, so then to destroy it you'd have to release it after heating it from the liquid state at a temperature of exactly—"

Raphael had been listening as carefully as he could, but without warning he lost all track of Donatello's words, for he felt a burst of pain more intense than that of any previous episode. More agonizing than anything he'd ever felt in his life. His surroundings, the fibers on the sofa, the humans, rat and turtles, all began to waver, their presence becoming as thin and as uncertain as mirages. Then, Raphael knew.

He knew that this was it, he was going back. He hadn't heard the remainder of what Donatello was saying. He was missing part of a crucial piece of information vital to whatever world he was in, and he was not going to get it. He could no longer remember what Don had been saying. Looking frantically around, he caught a glimpse of Mikey with tears in his eyes.

Raphael locked eyes with Master Splinter. He could no longer understand words, but the wise sensei's thoughts rang out to him, clearly as a bell. _My son, do not panic. I have seen what is happening in your world. Be brave, as you truly have been here. Take something from your time with us. You will know what to do. _He tried to find Leonardo, but it was impossible in the growing haze of his pain. He vaguely saw Donatello reaching for him, a piece of paper in his outstretched hand, but the closer his hand got, the further away it seemed. He could feel another thought from Master Splinter trying to breach the barrier of his brain, but his thoughts were no more, there were only feelings. _Burning, searing, then cold. Floating. Red behind his eyes, turning into a brilliant flash of white. _ He sensed that he heard shouting, and someone was screaming, but it was almost drowned out by a thunderous roar in his ears.

Then, there was only silence.

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	11. Born Again

**_Hello everyone…*gulp!* Thanks so much for your patience after what's been an inexcusably long time between updates. I was badly injured last year and unable to do any lengthy sitting and typing at a computer for a long time. I'm ok now, I'm back in the game and excited to bring you this chapter (after having had to re-read the whole story myself!). We are starting out this portion in the world only previously seen in Raphael's memories and dreams. Um… and there might be a little cliffy at the end, but I won't be quite so mean about the update this time!_**

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It was three o' clock in the morning. The Lair was completely still; the only sign of inhabitance was an eerie blue light seeping from beneath the door of one of the lower-level rooms. On the table in that room, a half-filled mug of stale coffee that had long ago lost its steam was perched on a pile of books next to the monitor. For once, the green, three-fingered hand that groped blindly for the mug in the wee hours of the morning did not belong to Donatello. Eye ridges furrowed above his blue mask, Leonardo gazed at the screen. Though his eyes were focused, alight with desperation as they scanned the information displayed before him, the hollowness around them betrayed his exhaustion.

He didn't even know what he was looking for anymore, after so much time had passed. It had been one month. Thirty-one days since he and his remaining brothers had last seen Raphael. That first morning, the hot-headed turtle hadn't shown up for practice and Leo had stormed into his room. He had begun his lecture on punctuality before he'd even made it through the door, but ceased abruptly when he found his audience to be an empty bed.

That first day, Leonardo hadn't understood. There had been no fight. Raphael had been amiable enough at dinner the evening before, joking around with Michelangelo despite his sullen attitude of late. On their rooftop patrol later that night, all had been relatively quiet. They had turned in early. Leonardo could not make sense out of Raphael's sudden absence on that particular morning.

Master Splinter had consented for them to cancel practice. Donatello had called April, and asked if she and Casey would drop by. The technologically-savvy turtle then busied himself scanning internet news reels from the past twelve hours for any odd phenomena. Mikey's worry carried with it an impressive dose of nervous energy. He tried numerous methods of occupying himself that day, but succeeded only in annoying his older brothers.

That evening, under cover of darkness, they began the search for their missing brother. The search was fruitless, and the three brothers returned heavy-hearted. Each had silently carried a spark of hope that Raphael would be waiting in the lair for them when they returned. Each was disappointed. The next morning they resumed their training, but immediately after a forced breakfast, the search was on. And so it went, for thirty-one days.

Leonardo, whose constant vigilance of everything around him was second almost to none, heard his brother coming before he stepped into the room. He didn't turn from the screen before him, but didn't flinch when Donatello laid a hand gently on his shoulder.

"Do I need to ask if you've found anything?"

Leo turned, to find his purple-banded brother taking a draught from his own cup of coffee. The dullness within his hollow eyes was answer enough. Donatello nodded once, his expression solemn.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. I just don't get it, Leo. I know we have enemies that would do their best to keep us under wraps, but you can't just hold on to someone like Raphael for a month without SOMETHING leaking through. He's just too hard to control, right? And besides that, I don't know. I mean, he can't have just disappeared off the face of the earth."

Leonardo didn't point out his brother's obvious omission. None of them were willing to accept, under any circumstances, the possibility that Raphael was dead. He supposed it would eventually be his responsibility to ease his younger siblings into considering that option. VERY eventually. For now, he planned to do everything within his power to ensure that day would never come. Eyes hardening, he returned his gaze to the computer monitor with a somewhat renewed determination.

Donatello pulled up a chair next to his older brother.

*******************

_Michelangelo awoke with a yawn, stretching as he slid out of bed. Blindly flailing for the doorknob, he grabbed it, left the bedroom and felt his way groggily towards the kitchen. On the way he saw a bright light emanating from under the door in Donatello's laboratory. Ever curious, he poked his head in the door, stifling another yawn, to see what the genius turtle was doing so early in the morning. He could just barely make out his brother's purple headband behind the stack of papers and a glass bowl on his desk. _

"_Mornin', Donnie, whatcha doin'?" _

_Donatello looked up from the papers in which he was engrossed. "Oh, hi Mikey, look I'm really busy this morning, ok? Did you need something?"_

"_Nah, Raph talked me into an early spar session with him this morning. I'm about to go find him but I was just going to fortify myself with some caffeine first."_

_Donatello cocked his head slightly. "Mikey, the last thing you need is a jolt of caffeine first thing in the morning. You'd better leave that requirement to more mild-mannered individuals, such as myself. Besides, you don't have to go looking for Raph, he's right here."_

_Confused, Michelangelo's eyes darted around the room for a second before he realized that Donatello was pointing to the glass bowl he'd spied before. Looking more closely, Mikey could make out the figure of a small turtle swimming around in the enclosure. He glanced back up at his purple-banded brother, eye ridges furrowed._

"_Donne, what the shell? Is this your idea of a…"_

_Donatello cut him off. "It's no joke, Mikey. Leo and I talked it over and we decided Raphael was too much of a danger to this family in his mutant form. The way he was going on about the Foot and some chemical they'd stolen, he was bound to get us all killed one day. We figured it was safer this way, so I took a little sample of the TCRI mutagen I happened to have lying around, and found a way to reverse it. He never even felt the transformation, I injected him while he was asleep. Look how happy he is now._

_Michelangelo was staring at the glass bowl, too horrified to speak, when he detected movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning toward the doorway, he saw Leonardo looming there with his hands on his hips. He greeted the orange-banded turtle with a slight nod of affirmation. "Sorry we didn't let you in on the decision, Mikey, but we didn't think you'd really have an objective opinion about it. We'll definitely let you share responsibility for him though, how about you go and get some pellets from that pet shop over in Chinatown? Here's some cash. _

_Leonardo started towards his youngest sibling with his hand held out, revealing a ten-dollar bill tucked neatly between two fingers. As he approached, Michelangelo realized that his eyes were glowing an eerie red, then turned to a bright, searing white. Leonardo began to laugh, a deep, mechanical sound that sent shivers coursing down Mikey's spine…_

Michelangelo awoke with a start, covered in perspiration, eyes darting frantically around the room. Just as he felt his heartbeat slow to something approaching its normal resting rate, he glanced at the doorway and saw Leonardo looming there with his hands on his hips, sending it thudding into his chest wall again.

Leo took one step into the room, concern etched on his features. "Mikey, are you alright? I came by to see if you wanted to get in on this brainstorming session, and it sounded like you were thrashing around in here. Nightmare?"

Michelangelo just stared at his brother, blue eyes opened wide in residual alarm. He did not venture to speak.

Leonardo shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond to his youngest brother's uncharacteristic silence. "Look, why don't you take a few minutes to get your bearings before you join us, ok? I know how hard this has been on you, on all of us."

*******************

By the time Michelangelo had joined his two brothers in Donatello's lab, they were deep in a discussion about whether the Foot could have been to blame for Raphael's disappearance. Mikey, having calmed down considerably, sighed deeply as he heaved himself into the remaining empty chair. The way he saw it, they were just running laps in endless circles in their minds by this point.

"Believe me, if they'd have known anything, they would have told us," Leonardo said darkly, unconsciously reaching back with one hand and feeling for a katana handle, as if to assure himself it was still there.

The Turtles would never resort to torturing an enemy, no matter how dire the circumstances. Bushido, their code of honor, forbade it. No one knew this better than Leonardo. However, he reflected, that didn't stop them from doing everything in their power to generate an unholy fear in the hearts of their enemies, especially when a member of their family was threatened. No one knew _that_ better than Raphael.

The Foot soldiers they'd apprehended the previous week would have talked if they'd had anything to offer, Leonardo was sure of that. Having little understanding of honor themselves, they could only expect the worst when three mutant turtles loomed, brandishing their weapons, faces contorted with fury and grief. The interrogation sessions had been frustrating, because the soldiers were, without doubt, telling the truth. The only way the Shredder and Karai could have been involved with Raphael's disappearance was for them to have kept his capture a secret from their own, and…

Leonardo paused in thought.

"Donny, call me crazy, but since we're all out of ideas I guess I'm willing to scrape the bottom of the barrel a little bit."

Donatello tore his gaze from the online news reel and gazed patiently at his older brother. Mikey raised an eye ridge, but didn't voice his thoughts. _Leo taking shots in the dark? This ought to be good._

Leonardo continued, his expression earnest. "Hear me out on this, guys. What if the Shredder and Karai have Raphael, but no one else knows about it, not even their own Foot ninja. What if they are keeping him a secret? I mean, this could be a little piece of good news in a way. If they are responsible for his disappearance, then he's most likely alive. If they'd killed him, they'd find every way they could to broadcast that to us. Destroy us emotionally, to make us easier to defeat. Maybe they're _using _him for something else, something important, and they dare not risk interruption."

Donatello looked doubtful. "I don't know, Leo… since when would the Shredder waste a chance to get his hands on all four of us? Furthermore, you know it would require more than a handful of Foot to take Raph down. What would he and Karai do, destroy their own flunkies? That'd be like that old adage – cutting off your nose to spite your face. Where's the sense in that?"

While Donatello was reasoning aloud, Mikey had suddenly remembered a fragment of something from his dream. Something that his subconscious's demented version of his brainy brother had said. The youngest turtle was becoming more and more fidgety, until Leo thought he was going to come crashing out of his seat. However, he let Donatello finish before bursting out excitedly with his opinion.

"No, wait, that's _it!_ Don't you guys get it?! Raph had been on about those Foot dudes for weeks! He kept saying they had some big plans for this chemical they had stolen, and that we'd better get involved before it was too late, remember? But Leo, you said it wasn't our fight, that the cops were looking into it, and Raph kept getting madder and madder, 'til you guys had that blow-up about it. He was quiet about it for the next week, and we all thought he'd gotten over it. Our bad, I bet he just up and decided to go after them himself!"

Leonardo stared at his youngest brother. "Mikey, you're right, you've got to be. I can't _believe_ we didn't think of it before. I just… I just got so _focused_ on the search for clues after he vanished that I didn't even consider everything leading up to that point. Huh, you'd think I'd be used to his crazy reckless decision-making, for what it's worth, by now." At this, Leo's eye ridges furrowed deeply in frustration, and he let out a world-weary sigh. "I thought I knew Raph better than that…"

Donatello laid a hand on Leo's shoulder, offering reassurance. "Hey, Leo, take it easy. You're not the only one who wants to take responsibility, who wants to take part in finding Raph, ok? Give us our due – we are all in this together, and that includes the dead ends and the successes."

Mikey nodded vigorously in affirmation. "Yeah, Dude! No time for the guilt trip routine, we've got an axis of evil headquarters to infiltrate! So c'mon Fearless Leader, as Raph would say, let's go kick some shell! Waaahhoooooo!"

The last word trailing in his wake, Mikey sprinted off, making a beeline for his nunchaku.

Leonardo looked at Donatello and smiled. "You know, somehow that just didn't sound right coming from Mikey, but you've got to give him points for enthusiasm."

Donatello laughed, a rich, sincere sound that had been far too infrequent in the Lair over the past few weeks.

Leo, however, had already turned serious once again. Almost too quietly for Donatello to hear, he muttered something about Raph being in for the chewing-out of a lifetime, once he was safe and sound.

Donatello spared a long look at his older brother, in the midst of gathering old notes and blueprints of the Foot Headquarters he'd retained from previous missions. "Leo, he's been gone for a month. Let's just get him back, ok? I know you're frustrated, and that you're only worried about his safety, but he may need our support more than ever once we are reunited. Who knows what kind of trouble he's gotten himself into this time."

*******************

_He was floating through the vast silence of space. All around him, pinpoints of light shimmered, stars that rested unimaginable distances away. There was one star directly in front of him, however, that he figured he could reach if he tried hard enough. The brilliant ball of sunlight beckoned him, promising warmth, whispering of eternal peace. He extended first one arm, and then the other, towards the light, wishing more than anything to feel its rays on his face. However, even as he reached for it, he saw it recede into the distance, maddeningly unattainable. One by one, all the other stars flickered out, until he was entombed in complete darkness._

_He felt a searing sensation, as though being struck by a thousand tiny bolts of lightning, and wondered fleetingly if the stars had not disappeared and had, in fact, attacked him. Then, he heard a heartbeat. Then another. They were his heartbeats. He hadn't realized until that moment that they had been absent. _

_He heard voices, tinny, distant. He could not understand what they were saying._

"Hey, looks like that did it. Check it out, there are normal QRS waves on the ECG now, see what I mean? What's his oximetry reading? Yeah, that's going up too, it's almost to 100% now. I think we've got him back, folks, good job."

"Excellent work, Dr. Chaplin, I'd had to think what would happen if we'd lost him at this point. We must see if we can extract the information my father has been seeking, and from what I understand that does require him to be _alive._"

"Oh, not to worry, Mistress, everything is under control! We just need to give him a little bit of time to readjust to being out in the environment, since he's been in that comatogen for a month already, and…"

"How MUCH time, Dr. Chaplin? That, as you may know, is a very _precious_ commodity right now."

"Oh, I'd say if we give him a few hours on fluids, nothing solid of course right now… then he should be able to withstand interrogation by then. We just need to get him out of this stuff so he can begin re-acclimating, and…"

"Fine, but he'll have to handle restraint as of now. I have long since learned with these turtles to expect the extraordinary at all times."

_He detected the sounds of two different individuals in conversation, but their words had no meaning to him. He could see nothing, and so was rather startled when he suddenly felt himself being lifted up and carried. The air on his skin was uncomfortably cold, causing him to shiver. He struggled weakly during his enforced movement, but was easily manipulated onto a firm surface. He slipped once more into unconsciousness. He did not dream._

*******************

Raphael awoke with a start. The first thing he noticed was that he could see nothing. Fear gripped him, even as he hoped that his blindness was environmental, not physiological. The second thing he noticed was that he could not move any of his limbs. Feeling around with his hands, he determined that he was on a metal table of some sort. He began to panic, having no idea where he was, or even what dimension he was in. Not knowing what else to do, he initiated some deep breathing exercises that his Master had enforced at the beginning of every training session they'd had since they were little… _wait, what?_

_His Master. Training exercises. They._ His deep breaths became shallow with excitement as memories poured into his mind, almost overwhelming him with relief over their familiarity. It felt like he hadn't been aware of them for a long time. Master Splinter's teachings. Busting heads with Casey. Pizza with weird ingredients. Smacking Mikey upside the head. Working on his bike with Donatello. Sparring with… Leonardo. At the thought of his older brother, unpleasant recent history shortly followed in his mind.

_Shell. I was tryin' to get everyone on my page to go after the Foot for stealin' that stuff. Leo told me to stand down. We had a fight, and then a week later I came out to the Foot Headquarters to try and… Shell. _

Suddenly he realized his current predicament with brilliant clarity.

*******************

Raphael had not been awake for five minutes when Karai burst through the door, Dr. Chaplin at her heels. The scientist reached back to turn on the lights, and Raphael realized with enormous satisfaction that his vision was perfectly intact. His mind sharpened as the burden of questioning his senses lifted. Watching the pair cross the room towards him, he got an idea.

Dr. Chaplin whipped a penlight from his lab coat pocket and used it to examine Raphael's eyes and pupillary reflexes. He began collecting information about the turtle's other vital signs and making notes on a pad and clipboard. Raphael kept his eyes unfocused, and at most made a few weak evasive movements throughout the examination. The scientist paused when he got to Raphael's mouth, hesitating, thinking that information about the prisoner's mucous membrane color would not be worth losing two or three fingers. Karai's impatient glare sent him back into forward motion, and taking a deep breath, he lifted the turtle's lip for the oral exam. Raphael continued to stare dully into space, gently turning his head away from the source of the intrusion. Wrinkling his brow, Dr. Chaplin waved his hand in front of the turtle's face.

"Uh, Mistress, everything's checking out, except… well, he doesn't seem mentally responsive. He's alert enough that I would have expected some type of intelligent interaction by now, and, well, we're just not getting it."

Karai stared suspiciously at Raphael, one eyebrow arched. She spoke to Dr. Chaplin without taking her eyes off the mutant turtle. "Get your blood sample, then we'll look further into this… problem." Without warning the female ninja reached forward and released Raphael's left arm.

It took everything Raphael had not to jerk his arm away during the phlebotomy procedure, especially since Dr. Chaplin was so jumpy it was a wonder that he came within feet of the vein. Raphael longed to use his freed limb to release the other restraints and attack his captors. He kept telling himself that everything relied upon his plan, if he only had the patience to carry it out. _Too bad I got that in such short supply._

Dr. Chaplin had obtained his sample without any trouble, but replaced Raphael's arm in the restraint and looked to his employer's daughter, waiting for further instructions.

Karai leaned in close, her lashes almost brushing Raphael's face as she stared him down for some time, looking for a spark of recognition. With intense effort, he kept his features expressionless, in spite of the intrusion into his personal space. Karai whispered, her sour breath betraying that she had been awake for long hours. "So, we brought you back only to lose your mind in the process. How unfortunate for us, but much more so for you." She turned her back to Raphael, focusing on her companion. "Dr. Chaplin, it appears you have made a grave mistake. You have managed to revive Raphael, but left his spirit in another world. Now, he is of no more use to us than a harmless pet turtle. I have no need for slaves, that's what Foot soldiers are for. Therefore, prepare the lethal injection."


End file.
